I love surprises - champagne and strawberries, all that

The words of Danica McKellar, saying, “I love surprises – champagne and strawberries, all that pampering, romantic stuff. Guys ought to know how to pamper their women properly,” may at first seem like a light-hearted confession of delight. Yet within them lies a deeper teaching, one that speaks to the ancient bond of affection between man and woman, to the rituals of tenderness that preserve love’s fire. For gifts and tokens, though small, are mighty when they carry within them the fragrance of care. The champagne and strawberries are not mere luxuries—they are symbols of thoughtfulness, of creating joy by noticing what delights another’s soul.

In the days of old, wise philosophers and poets often reminded us that the smallest offerings of affection could bear the greatest meaning. For was it not Sappho who spoke of garlands and scented oils as expressions of devotion? She knew, as McKellar reminds us, that love is nourished by attention and ritual. The pampering she names is not indulgence for vanity’s sake, but a recognition of worth. To pamper is to declare: “I see you, I honor you, I wish to gladden your heart.” It is the act of lifting another above the weariness of the everyday, if only for a moment, and saying: “You matter.”

Consider the tale of Antony and Cleopatra, rulers of vast realms, whose lives were filled with battles and burdens. Yet history remembers not only their wars, but the banquets upon the Nile, the golden barges scented with incense, the dramatic gestures of affection. Cleopatra once wagered that she could host the most lavish feast of all, and in her cunning, she dissolved a pearl in wine to demonstrate her devotion. Was it extravagance? Perhaps. Yet it revealed the same truth as McKellar’s words: that lovers thrive when they strive to delight each other, when they make of love an art as much as a bond.

The power of surprises lies in their unexpectedness. A flower pressed into the hand, a whispered note hidden where it will be found, a cup of wine poured without request—all these become treasures greater than their material worth. For the heart rejoices not in the cost, but in the thought. The one who gives such gifts says silently, “I remember you even when you are not before me.” And is not remembrance one of the strongest pillars of love?

Yet we must not mistake pampering for the hollow rituals of vanity. When born from duty or from pride, such gestures ring empty. The wisdom of McKellar’s words lies in authenticity. To pamper properly is not merely to adorn with finery, but to meet the hidden longings of the soul. Sometimes it is champagne and strawberries; other times it is listening when the other is weary, or easing their burdens with a gentle hand. The true art lies in knowing the beloved well enough to offer what brings peace and joy.

Therefore, let this teaching be passed down: love thrives in kindness, in delight, and in the effort to keep wonder alive. The warriors of old sharpened their swords daily, lest they grow dull. So too must lovers sharpen their affection with small acts of joy, lest the heart grow weary with neglect. To give comfort, to craft surprise, to uplift the spirit—these are not luxuries but necessities for love to endure.

The lesson, then, is clear. Let each person seek ways, however humble, to pamper those they cherish. It need not be with jewels or feasts. It may be a candle lit in the night, a note of gratitude, a gentle embrace at the close of day. Pampering is simply love made visible through action. And the practical call is this: do not wait for grand occasions. Begin today. Surprise someone you love with a small kindness. Offer not only gifts, but also presence, patience, and joy. For these are the true strawberries and champagne of the heart.