A sticky post-Valentine situation for Sam

It's a leap into moonless night, this letting someone know you might possibly, sort of, like them. Heart thumping, wind whistling in your ears and who knows whether the landing is going to be feather-soft or terminal velocity hard?
When last we left my 10-year-old son Sam, he'd dropped off a Valentine's Day card at the home of a girl he liked on the evening before Valentine's Day.
The ice storm closed school the next day and so he had to wait until yesterday to find out whether his SpongeBob Squarepants offering (complete with a sheet of stickers) passed muster.
"How'd it go?'' I asked him last night after supper.
If it had gone badly, I was prepared to deliver a rousing "other fish in the sea, at least you handled yourself with dignity'' speech.
It wasn't necessary.
"Well, she had the stickers all over her folder and she said 'Thank you' for the card,'' Sam said.
And that was that.
The card was an end in itself, it seems to me, not a prelude to anything. That's as it should be. The kid's only 10.
But a lesson in hope and bravery and leaping is never too early to learn.