It was 1995, I had been lay-off my full-time job and could no longer make my contribution to the family larder. Our only income was what Mother could make by dressmaking for others.
Then Mother was sick for a few weeks and unable to work. The electric company came out and cut off the power when we couldn't pay the bill. Then the gas company cut off the gas. Then the water company. But the Health Department made them turn the water back on for reasons of sanitation. The cupboard got very bare. Fortunately, we had a vegetable garden and were able to cook some of its produce in a campfire in the back yard.
Then one day my younger sister came tripping home from school with, "We're supposed to bring something to school tomorrow to give to the poor."
Mother started to blurt out, "I don't know of anyone who is any poorer than we are," when her mother, who was living with us at the time, shushed her with a hand on her arm and a frown.
"Eva," she said, "if you give that child the idea that she is 'poor folks' at her age, she will be 'poor folks' for the rest of her life. There is one jar of that homemade jelly left. She can take that."
Grandmother found some tissue paper and a little bit of pink ribbon with which she wrapped our last jar of jelly, and sister tripped off to school the next day proudly carrying her "gift to the poor."
and ever after, if there was a problem in the community, sister naturally assumed that she was supposed to be part of the solution.
QUESTIONS
What Do You Think?
What Do You Feel?
What Can You Add Up?
Tell them about what You Been Working On?
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