A Valentine for Harlequin's Anniversary by Catherine Mann Read Free Book Online

still very good friends. Once at the convention, however—as we went our own separate ways to various panels and exhibits—I realized that I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Where was he? What was he doing now?
    By the first evening, I knew my feelings hadn’t changed. I told him so. He was understandably cautious about my declaration; like most people our age, he’d suffered his share of disappointments. But as we drove back to northern California, we knew we’d keep seeing each other again and again. And we did: for two years, we depleted Serge’s savings by flying back and forth from California to Quebec. And then, with no further doubt in his mind, Serge proposed. From nearly 3,000 miles away.
    That was my miracle of love. After twenty-odd years of no dating, no boyfriends, and no love affairs, I had found my perfect match. Twenty-two years later, we’re still together.
    There are thousands of reasons to believe in love. But Serge will always be my first and foremost reason for my faith that love can be just around the corner, even when you lest expect it.
    — Susan Krinard
www.susankrinard.com

    #31
    I was raised to believe in love.
    My parents were born close to the time of the Great Depression, so there were many things I take for granted that they didn’t have. They gave me so many precious gifts. My parents taught me the power of having a sense of humor even in tough times. Even though they didn’t have a lot when they started out together, they still knew how to have fun.
    My mother remembers wearing cotton dresses in winter and putting cardboard in her shoes to cover the holes in the soles as a child, so she made sure that we always had warm clothes in winter and new shoes every season. My mother was the youngest of four children and her parents didn’t always see the importance of affection, so when my mother had her children, she made sure to hug us several times a day. My parents taught me the magic of hugs.
    My mother was a stay-at-home mom, but she learned how to do taxes and saved the money she earned to buy a piano so that we could learn the love and discipline of making music. That’s a gift that keeps on giving even after I stopped practicing “The Happy Farmer” by Schumann.
    My father worked three and sometimes four jobs to support us and he showed his love by his amazing example of positive thinking and persistence. Those traits were critical for making my writing career a reality. To this day, he looks to find the positive in every situation. He’s the kind of man whom you can join for a golf game and by the end of it, even if your score is awful, he’ll point every good shot you made, every almost- good shot you made, and have you convinced you’re in the same league as Tiger Woods. My father is a master at seeing possibilities. Possibilities are what give us hope.
    My parents fostered a love for the ocean. Even during the lean years, my parents loaded our family of five into the car, once in a Volkswagon with our dog in the back, and took us to the beach once a year. I still find enormous inspiration and peace from watching the waves, smelling the salt air and feeling the sand on my bare feet.
    My parents showed me love by taking me to church so that I could experience the joy and comfort of having a faith in something larger than myself. The joy that comes from giving and the comfort of having something to hang onto during tough times. That ultimate love of our creator still humbles me.
    I could go on about how they paid for a full college education for all three daughters and provided the encouragement to each of us to complete our degrees, and all the emotional support they’ve provided throughout the years.
    I am so blessed.
    — Leanne Banks
www.leannebanks.com
    #32
    In December, I found a box of old photos at the bottom of some seldom-used Christmas decorations. The photo box had likely been in our former living room when the decorations were being packed away, and someone