I like Valentine's Day for the kids. You know, they take their
I like Valentine's Day for the kids. You know, they take their valentines to school and I like to see what they come home with.
Hear now the gentle yet profound words of Sara Evans, who said: “I like Valentine’s Day for the kids. You know, they take their valentines to school and I like to see what they come home with.” At first glance, these words seem simple, but within them is hidden the wisdom of innocence. For she turns her gaze away from the anxieties and expectations of adults, and she finds joy in the purity of children’s hearts. In her words, Valentine’s Day is not about the grandeur of roses or the weight of romance, but about the small tokens of kindness exchanged by children, untainted by pretense.
The origin of this truth lies in the ancient wisdom that children often see more clearly than adults. While grown men and women cloud love with duty, expectation, and comparison, the young approach it with simplicity. A paper heart, a scribbled note, a piece of candy—these humble offerings carry more sincerity than the most extravagant of gifts. Evans reminds us that love in its truest form is innocent, playful, and unburdened, and that we can learn much by watching how children celebrate it.
Consider the classroom on Valentine’s Day morning. Each child enters with a box of cards, faces bright with excitement, eager to give and to receive. No one counts the cost of the gift, no one measures whether the token is worthy or sufficient. What matters is the joy of exchange, the delight of recognition, the happiness of returning home with a box full of notes from friends. Evans sees in this ritual not frivolity but truth: that love, when shared simply and freely, multiplies joy for all.
The ancients, too, prized this innocence. Did not the words of the Nazarene declare, “Unless you become as little children, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven”? For the heart of a child is free from calculation, willing to give without thought of gain. In every age, poets and sages have reminded us that the greatest truths are often held by the smallest hands. Evans’s observation is an echo of this wisdom, teaching us that the spirit of Valentine’s Day is best preserved in the joy of children.
Yet her words also serve as a rebuke to the world of adults. For too often we turn love into burden, binding it with expectation and performance. We forget that once we too delighted in the simple giving and receiving of tokens, and we allow stress to overshadow joy. Evans invites us to remember, through the example of children, that love need not be heavy—it can be light, playful, and filled with laughter. To watch what the children bring home is to be reminded of what we once carried: hearts unguarded, love unmeasured.
What lesson, then, must we take? That love, in its purest form, is found not in grandeur but in sincerity. We must learn to approach our relationships as children approach Valentine’s Day—open, eager, and joyful. We must treasure not the size of the gift, but the spirit with which it is given. In so doing, we reclaim the innocence of love, a treasure greater than any token bought in haste.
Practical action follows this truth. In your own life, celebrate not only the grand moments, but also the small ones: the handwritten note, the kind word, the unexpected smile. Teach children to value sincerity above extravagance, and in turn, let them teach you to find joy in simplicity. Share love freely, without calculation, and receive it with gratitude. For love that is simple and childlike is love that endures.
So let Sara Evans’s words echo as a gentle reminder: “I like Valentine’s Day for the kids.” In their joy, we glimpse the heart of the holiday as it was meant to be—not a burden, but a celebration of connection, free from fear, free from pretense. And if we learn from them, then love itself will become as it should be: light as a paper heart, enduring as the memory of a childhood gift carried home in wonder.
Ddoanthibichngoc
I love how Evans highlights the simple joys of Valentine’s Day for kids. It’s such a sweet reminder of how holidays can be more about the joy of giving and receiving small gestures, rather than the pressure to make everything perfect. What if we, as adults, shifted our perspective and focused more on the joy of little things like kids do? Would it make the day less stressful and more meaningful?
NMNa My
Sara Evans' quote reminds me of how differently we approach holidays as we age. Children’s excitement over exchanging cards and candies is heartwarming, yet as adults, we often make the day more about materialism or perfection. Could we, as adults, try to approach Valentine’s Day with the same pure excitement kids do, simply appreciating the gesture and the thought behind it without feeling the need to go overboard?
NSThang Nguyen Sy
I really agree with Evans’ sentiment. Valentine’s Day seems so much more carefree when viewed through the eyes of children. It’s all about fun, friendship, and small tokens of affection. But when we grow older, it turns into something entirely different, often filled with expectations. Is it possible for adults to reclaim the simplicity of the holiday without all the adult stress? How can we bring back the joy for ourselves?
DDNgoc Diep va Ngoc Diem Do
Evans’ take on Valentine’s Day makes me think about the different ways we experience the holiday. For kids, it’s a fun, stress-free event where they can show kindness to their classmates. As adults, we often add layers of pressure to make it special. Why is it that we lose that simplicity as we grow older? Could we bring back the childlike joy of Valentine’s Day and leave the adult pressures behind?
TATuan Anh
I love Sara Evans' perspective on Valentine’s Day. It’s refreshing to focus on the joy and innocence it brings to kids, rather than all the stress and expectations placed on adults. Seeing kids exchange valentines reminds us of simpler, more genuine expressions of affection. Do we sometimes overcomplicate holidays for ourselves? Maybe we should take a cue from children and focus on sharing small, thoughtful gestures instead of grand expectations.