What, if anything, connects Valentine’s Day to Judaism?

On the surface, probably very little, as the holiday’s origins trace back to ancient Roman customs and Christian traditions (not to mention Hallmark and Russell Stover).

However, when you reflect on the fact that love and compassion are deeply ingrained in Jewish teachings, it’s worth asking: What harm is there in joining the rest of America in celebrating those we hold dear?

And so, on this Valentine’s Day, we asked a number of Jewish St. Louisans to tell us a favorite love story — how they met their partner, the best relationship advice they ever received or even the niceties that assure them they are cared about. Here’s what we learned.

I won’t, I will … I do

When Gloria Perel Roberts was a sophomore at Washington University, her widowed father received a wedding invitation from a friend, inviting both he and Gloria to their friend’s daughter’s wedding.

“We were confused as to why I was invited instead of a date for him,” Gloria said. “A few days later, the bride’s mother told my father that I was invited because a close friend of theirs had a grandson who was graduating from college and moving to St. Louis to start his job. She wanted to set us up.”

Gloria promptly told her father, “No.” She insisted she would not go. But her aunt intervened, suggesting that she attend the wedding because she had no other plans, and assuring her she could leave at any time if she chose to. Gloria reluctantly agreed to go.

The wedding took place at the Chase Park Plaza. Just before dinner was served, the bride’s mother seized Gloria by the arm and dragged her over to meet the grandson, Mark Roberts.

“She made sure we were seated at the same table, so it would have been impolite not to sit next to him,” Gloria, now a CPA in Chesterfield, said.

Much to her surprise, Gloria and Mark hit it off, enjoying each other’s company so much that they were among the last to leave the celebration.

Mark was set to move to St. Louis just 10 days later, and Gloria couldn’t wait to see where this connection would lead. The couple married in 1981.

“Mark is the best thing that ever happened to me,” Gloria said. “And he feels the same way about me.”

Several years later, the bride’s mother became widowed and eventually got remarried —  to Gloria’s father.

“People used to ask me if I liked my stepmother,” said Gloria, 66, mother of two, grandmother of four and member of Congregation B’nai Amoona. “And I always replied, ‘Well, she introduced me to Mark before she became my stepmother, so absolutely, yes.’ ”

It adds up to a lifetime

Erin Schreiber recalls that when she was about 14, she received a piece of relationship advice that has stayed with her. It came during the 40th anniversary celebration of her relatives Saul and Marilyn Dien at the historic B’rith Shalom Kneseth Israel in Richmond Heights.

The advice, shared by Saul, was both simple and profound:

Relationships are not always 50-50. Sometimes one partner contributes 40%, and the other 60%, sometimes it’s the other way around. The key is that the balance shifts, with each person stepping up at different times, depending on the circumstances.

What struck Erin deeply was the source of the wisdom: the Diens have been married for 68 years. Now each in their 90s, they not only built a lasting partnership but worked through decades when dual careers were less common for couples. They raised twin boys and a daughter, a testament to their shared commitment.

Erin, 43, has been married to her husband, Marc, for 17 years. They, too, have twins, and like many couples, they juggle careers and family responsibilities. Erin said that, due to the flexibility in her job, she sometimes takes on more of the household duties.

“There are times when we both feel overwhelmed, as though we’re carrying more than our fair share,” said Erin, who, along with her family, is a member of Congregation Shaare Emeth. “But then I remind myself that, as long as we’re working together and it adds up to 100%, we’re doing just fine.”

High on a mountain of love

Temple Emanuel Rabbi Elizabeth Hersh and her family love to ski. Typically, they head to Colorado to do just that two or three times a year.

“Every time, without fail, my husband (Rob Kleinlehrer) puts my ski boots on me and fastens all the buckles. It is no easy task,” Rabbi Hersh said. “And then, he carries my skis along with his, walking to the gondola, and at the end of the day, back to ski storage. Other husbands have commented, ‘Don’t let my wife see this!’ ”

Two Jews walk into a Jesuit law school

Most people don’t go to a Jesuit university expecting to meet their Jewish husband, but that’s exactly what happened to Plia Lippman Cohn when she left New York to attend law school at St. Louis University.

“About a year and a half into law school, a friend named Alice, who knew I was Jewish, told me she wanted to introduce me to the only other Jewish person she knew,” Plia recalled. “He was a guy she’d met at SLU during undergrad, and he had just started law school that year.”

The two began dating and eventually fell in love. Today, Plia and Creighton Cohn have been married for 23 years, live in Olivette, have three children and are active members of B’nai Amoona.

“Though I loved SLU, I had no plans to stay in St. Louis after graduation. I was going back to New York,” Plia, 54, said. “But my father insisted I take the bar exam in the state where I went to law school. And, well, here I am, all these years later.”

‘Love it like the tide’

Raquel Scharf-Anderson, head of Saul Mirowitz Jewish Community School, recently shared the best relationship advice she ever received in a speech to her daughter and her partner at their wedding last month:

Hang in there when times are hard — and there will be challenging times. Chances are you will fall in love with each other again, and if you give up, you will never know. In a long relationship, you will inevitably have ups and downs. Remember, love is like the tide — it ebbs and flows. Your friendship will get you through challenging times, so never neglect it. Always remember there was a reason you chose each other.

Summer of ’76

Harriet Colonna Shanas, 70, recalls the summer of 1976 in St. Louis the way many of us remember those sweltering, muggy months: unbearably hot and sticky. At 22, she was on the lookout for something fun and, ideally cool, to break the monotony. So she invited a few friends over for a poker night. One of her friend’s boyfriends brought along a guy named Mike Shanas.

“That night, we played poker, and he invited himself to stay until the wee hours,” Harriet said with a laugh. “I thought he was so weird. He wouldn’t stop talking. He just yapped all night long.”

Mike bombarded her with stories — this and that — and Harriet, already in shock, finally had to speak up.

“I said, ‘I have to go to work in the morning,’ and I thought, ‘Please, just leave!’ ”

A week later, Mike asked Harriet out on a date.

“So we went, and I thought, ‘He’s all right,’ ” she said “Then, out of nowhere, he looks at the check and says, ‘Are we going to walk in wooden shoes?’ ”

Harriet was taken aback.

“I thought, ‘What? Is this guy psycho?’ Then he adds, ‘Wooden shoes. You know, Dutch.’ ”

Even though she was cringing at what she considered the world’s worst pun, and was a little annoyed that she had to pay for herself, there was something about Mike that intrigued her. She knew she wanted to get to know him better.

“He was very intellectual,” Harriet said. “I really respected him because I realized he had gotten himself through Wash U with scholarships and was accepted early into their dental school. And I thought, here’s a really bright, hardworking guy who wants to make something of himself. Maybe I shouldn’t brush him aside because he doesn’t fit this crazy romantic notion I had.”

Three and a half months later, they were engaged, and the following year, in 1977, they got married. Over the years, their bond deepened. They raised three sons and have three grandchildren. They live in Frontenac and attend Kol Rinah.