Hungry People Welcome to Verna's Peas

Greetings on a Chilly (here) October Friday!

Verna the Rebel, founder of Rusty Copper Status has finally cent in her Penny Story and today becomes an official member.  Congrats, Verna!

In her own eloquent words:

Pennies…how I loved ‘em. So many treasures they would buy, held in the grubby hands Mama had told me to wash. As long as my mother lived, she liked to tell the story about how I’d come to the table with dirty hands. (She really did have a big thing about dirt!) That time when she’d asked me if I’d washed my hands, I replied, “Didn’t you hear the water running?” I’d needed both hands to help me make faces in the mirror. But I digress…my husband says I’m good at that.



I can still see the little barefoot munchkin that I was, jumper strap hanging over one shoulder, with my nose pressed against the candy counter to leave a little smudge behind. Should it be the bubble gum—another thing Mama hated—a sucker, a caramel, a couple of strands of licorice, or a piece of chocolate? The licorice and the chocolate were my favorites—still are.


My big brother and I would fuss about who got to take the glass pop bottles back to the store for the pennies they would bring. Being bigger, he would usually win, but I’d tell on him, and he’d have to share. (Dad had a soft spot for his little girl.)


Not all of my pennies were for candy. At announcement time before Sunday School, when it was my birthday, I’d carry pennies to show how old I was and place them in the offering plate at the front while everybody sang “Happy Birthday.” My preacher dad would wink at me when I’d bring up my offering. I was just a little envious of the old people for the big jangle their pennies made dropping into the plate when they had birthdays.


I had a little bank on my dresser to save for the missionary offering. I felt so noble giving my pennies for needy children in faraway countries, but I’d really rather have given them my peas and carrots, which Mama told me hungry people around the world would love to have. They were welcome to mine.


Indeed, it was a simpler living time. My big brother tells me now that we were poor and didn’t know it then because there was so much love in our home.

Thanks for sharing your memories, Verna.  You are a "giver" as the vegetable anecdote clearly illustrates! 
 
That's it for another week here on Connecting Now--though lines are always open.  Hope you all enjoy the last days of a beautiful October--perhaps even go out for a moondance.