Today was another proud moment for me. I watched my boys (from the warmth of my house) get out in the cold and snow and ask neighbors to shovel their walkways for a little profit. It was fantastic. They looked so cold. They didn't get as much as they were hoping for, but they got something. I was so happy for them.The Bible does say that all hard work brings a profit.
It made me think back of when my dad would make me get up early on Saturday mornings and cut our grass. There was one morning when the dread of cutting pollen-filled grass, which activated my allergies and never ending sneezing, changed. He took me to my neighbor's house and told me to knock on the door. The neighbor (let's call him Mr. Brown) answered the door, dressed in some argyle socks, a t-shirt, brown slippers, and shorts smoking on a pipe. I asked if I could cut his grass in which he said yes. My dad coached me to knock on his door once I finished. Mr. Brown pulled out a $20 bill and gave it to me. He then instructed me that whenever his grass got high, just cut it without asking him.
BET!!!!!! That $20 bill was so beautiful-rectangular in shape with a president I had never met, but felt so close to all of the sudden. It was dressed in patterns unlike no other. It smelled fresh, but unfamiliar to me, like old leather! It smelled so good.
I figured later that my dad and Mr. Brown had preset this arrangement. I wasn't mad. All I know is that I was 15 years old in the late 80's. A twenty could go a long way. I could buy McDonalds (before I knew their all beef patties with special sauce, lettuce cheese was not REALLY an all beef patty), the New Edition tape with the hit 'Can You Stand the Rain', or $.89 gas to use for the lawn mower to cut more lawns. I remember one morning I cut three different yards and was paid $60. I was driving my 1980 something Chevrolet Citation with the single front seat and stick shift out the floor. I was rich!
I saw that itch in my boys today. Let's hope that itch lasts so they can stop asking me for my money. I can wish, right?
I'm NOS...
It made me think back of when my dad would make me get up early on Saturday mornings and cut our grass. There was one morning when the dread of cutting pollen-filled grass, which activated my allergies and never ending sneezing, changed. He took me to my neighbor's house and told me to knock on the door. The neighbor (let's call him Mr. Brown) answered the door, dressed in some argyle socks, a t-shirt, brown slippers, and shorts smoking on a pipe. I asked if I could cut his grass in which he said yes. My dad coached me to knock on his door once I finished. Mr. Brown pulled out a $20 bill and gave it to me. He then instructed me that whenever his grass got high, just cut it without asking him.
BET!!!!!! That $20 bill was so beautiful-rectangular in shape with a president I had never met, but felt so close to all of the sudden. It was dressed in patterns unlike no other. It smelled fresh, but unfamiliar to me, like old leather! It smelled so good.
I figured later that my dad and Mr. Brown had preset this arrangement. I wasn't mad. All I know is that I was 15 years old in the late 80's. A twenty could go a long way. I could buy McDonalds (before I knew their all beef patties with special sauce, lettuce cheese was not REALLY an all beef patty), the New Edition tape with the hit 'Can You Stand the Rain', or $.89 gas to use for the lawn mower to cut more lawns. I remember one morning I cut three different yards and was paid $60. I was driving my 1980 something Chevrolet Citation with the single front seat and stick shift out the floor. I was rich!
I saw that itch in my boys today. Let's hope that itch lasts so they can stop asking me for my money. I can wish, right?
I'm NOS...
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