The New Student in My Class Gave Me a Valentine Card That I Had Made for My First Love Many Years Ago — Story of the Day

I was living my ordinary life until one of my students gave me a Valentine. It looked familiar, and when I unfolded it, my heart stopped. It was the card I had written years ago for someone I once loved. I had to know how it ended up in his hands—even if it changed everything.

Everyone thinks being an elementary school teacher is the easiest job, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

I wonder, college professors, have you ever had to get slime out of hair while the guilty party giggles in the corner? Have you ever tried to scrub permanent marker off a wall?

Or rushed a rug to the dry cleaner because a student didn’t make it to the bathroom in time? I don’t think so. For me, that was just part of the job.

Still, I loved my work. Kids had a way of making even the most exhausting days feel rewarding.

But sometimes, I swear, I was teaching tiny tornadoes disguised as children.

Chaos followed them everywhere. However, there were students like Mark.

Mark was different. He was the kind of child people called a real angel. He was quiet but not shy, polite but not stiff, always kind.

And, to my surprise, often brought me little gifts—a drawing, a flower he’d found, even a neatly folded napkin he thought looked like a swan.

He had only been in my class for a month, and I could tell he was still adjusting.

Many kids hadn’t fully accepted him yet, and I found myself stepping in when they left him out. But Mark never seemed upset.

"I just feel sorry for them," he told me once. "They don’t know how to be nice." See? A real angel.

During breaks, he’d come up just to talk. He told me his family had moved a lot—different cities, different countries.

His dad was a journalist, and now, finally, they were staying here. I often wondered who had raised such a wonderful child.

But since his nanny always picked him up, I never had the chance to find out.

On Valentine’s Day, Mark walked up to my desk, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

His small hands clutched something behind his back. His eyes darted up at me, then back down.

"I wanted to give you a Valentine," he said. His voice was soft.

"For me?" I asked.

He nodded. "You’re a great teacher."

"That’s very kind of you, Mark. Thank you."

He gave a quick nod, then turned as if to walk away.

"Wait," I said. "Where’s the Valentine?"

Mark’s eyes widened. "Oh!" He pulled a small card from behind his back and placed it on my desk, almost dropping it in the process.

I picked it up. Something about it felt familiar. I unfolded it.

"To the funniest and smartest boy I know. Don’t you dare forget me. Yours, Annie."

My breath caught. My hands tightened around the paper. I knew this handwriting. My handwriting.

"Mark, where did you get this?"

"In my dad’s stuff," he said. "It even has your name on it. Do you like it?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes, Mark. I love it."

He hugged me, then ran off, leaving me frozen. Had he really kept it after all these years?

Memories crashed over me, pulling me back to a time I thought I had left behind. Jason.

My first love. My only real love. Even now, saying that felt ridiculous, like something out of an old romance novel. But it was true.

We had spent high school dreaming together, mapping out a future that felt certain.

College, careers, a life side by side. Nothing could touch us. Nothing could break us.

Until one day, Jason walked into the school hallway looking like his whole world had shattered.

"We’re moving to Europe," he said, his voice cracking. "My dad got a job offer there."

He didn’t even try to hold back the tears. He just collapsed into my arms, his body shaking.

I held him as tightly as I could, trying to breathe through the lump in my throat.

"Jason, no," I whispered, though I already knew there was nothing I could do.

Our last day together was Valentine’s Day. I gave him that card, the one Mark had handed me. I watched him read it, his eyes glassy.

"Even if I wanted to, I could never forget you," he said. Then he pulled me into his arms, squeezing like he could stop time. But time didn’t stop. Jason left.

Our love had no happy ending. Over time, we lost all contact, and as far as I knew, he never returned to our town. At least, that’s what I thought until Mark brought me that Valentine.

I needed answers. I opened Mark’s file, heart pounding. His father’s name: Jason. This wasn’t a coincidence.

As soon as school ended, I drove to the address. Standing at the door, my hands shook.

Pull yourself together, Annie. Don’t be a coward. I took a deep breath and rang the bell.

The door swung open, and a woman stood before me. She was stunning—tall, graceful, perfectly put together.

"Can I help you?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

I swallowed and forced a smile. "I’d like to speak with Jason."

She raised an eyebrow. "He’s not home. What is this about?"

I hesitated. "Are you Mark’s new nanny? I’d really like to speak with Jason."

A slow, knowing smile spread across her face. "I’m Katherine. Jason’s wife. Mark’s mother. And you are?"

The words hit me like a slap. Jason’s wife. Of course. My stomach twisted.

What had I expected? That he’d be waiting for me all these years? What an idiot I was.

"I’m Miss Annie," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Mark’s teacher."

Her expression didn’t change. "Is Mark having trouble at school? You can speak to me."

"Not at all," I said quickly. "Mark is wonderful. I just wanted to meet his parents."

Katherine nodded, her smile cool. "Nice to meet you."

"Same here," I murmured, then turned and walked back to my car.

The moment I got into my car, the tears came. Hot, unstoppable. My hands gripped the steering wheel as sobs shook my chest. What a fool I was. A complete fool.

What had I expected? That I’d knock on the door, Jason would open it, his face lighting up in recognition?

That he’d still be single, still waiting, still thinking about me after all these years?

That he’d tell me he had never stopped loving me, and we’d somehow rewrite our story with a happy ending?

Reality hit hard. Jason had a wife. A family. A life that didn’t include me. That Valentine had probably been stuffed away in some forgotten box, mixed in with old papers, meaningless now.

I wiped my face and drove home in silence. That night, I curled up on my couch with a tub of ice cream, drowning my sorrows in sugary comfort.

Romantic comedies played on my screen, taunting me. They had made me believe in love, in fate. Look where that got me.

I tried to move on. I almost managed—until one afternoon, after class, as I picked up scattered toys. A deep voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Good afternoon. My son gave you a Valentine a few days ago. I know this is a terrible thing to ask, but that Valentine is really important to me. I’d like to have it back."

The voice was familiar. Too familiar.

I stood up too quickly and smacked my head against the wooden shelf above me. Pain shot through my skull.

"Ouch!" I yelped, rubbing the sore spot.

"Oh, are you okay?" the man asked, stepping forward. His voice held concern. "I didn’t mean to startle you."

"I’m fine, you didn’t—" I started, then stopped cold. I finally looked at him.

"Jason…" I whispered.

His eyes widened. "Annie…" He took a slow breath, as if trying to steady himself. "I… I never thought this could be real. When Mark told me his teacher’s name was Miss Annie, I thought it was just a coincidence."

"Turns out, it wasn’t," I said, my voice unsteady.

He nodded, his gaze locked on mine. "I wanted to find you, but…" His words trailed off.

"I wanted to see you too," I admitted. "I even went to your house after Mark gave me that Valentine, but your wife said you weren’t home."

"Katherine," I clarified.

Jason sighed, shaking his head. "She’s not my wife. I mean, she was. But we divorced years ago."

I frowned. "That’s… odd. She told me she was your wife."

Jason let out a tired laugh. "That sounds like Katherine. She thinks she can win me back by scaring away any woman who comes near me."

I stared at him, then let out a small, surprised laugh. Even after all these years, he still had a way of making me smile.

"So," he said, nodding toward the Valentine. "Am I still the funniest guy you know?"

I swallowed, my fingers tightening around the edge of my desk. "Why did you keep it all these years?"

Jason’s eyes softened. "Why do you think?"

"Jason, I don’t want to get caught up in some messy drama with your ex," I started, forcing myself to stay logical.

"There’s no drama," he cut in. "Katherine lives in London. She’s only here visiting Mark."

I hesitated. "Jason… why did you keep the Valentine?" I asked again.

He stepped closer, his voice quieter now. "For the same reason I came back here. Because of you."

"You came back for me?" My voice barely made a sound.

Jason nodded. "I was too scared to look for you. I thought you might not remember me."

I swallowed hard. "I never forgot you."

His face broke into the same smile I had fallen for all those years ago. Maybe we will have a happy ending after all.

Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: On Valentine’s Day, I never expected to get stuck in an elevator with my ex-husband and his much younger girlfriend. Tension rose, secrets spilled, and one shocking revelation changed everything. By the time the doors opened, I knew one thing for sure—this was the best Valentine's gift I could have asked for.Read the full story here.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.