Aussiegirl posted a lovely story about the good one does living on after you. Here is a story from my late husband’s childhood that has never left my mind.

First, a little background. Jay’s father was a career army man, but never rose above the rank of sergeant. Jay grew up on army posts and was basically rootless. Periodically his father would try civilian life and homestead on a poor plot of land. But he could never make a go of it and would re-up.

Jay described the shack they lived in, the paper that substituted for glass in the windows, the dirt floors. He picked berries all one summer and spent the $10 he made on boots and was ecstatic that for the first time ever he could walk through winter puddles on his way to school.

Jay’s mom tired of the constant struggle and left his father, taking the children to Utah – Jay and his brother and sister, who was perhaps about 7. Jay was perhaps 12 and his brother, 14. It was about 1922.

They were at a rural rail stop waiting for the train. Jay and his brother and sister walked into a small convenience store and looked around. There was a table full of glass toy animals and his little sister looked at them longingly.

“Gee,” she said, “wouldn’t it be wonderful if that man could just hand me out a cow?”

Jay and his brother went outside and talked, they counted their pennies, they went inside and asked the proprietor if they could buy a cow with what they had. It wasn’t enough, but the fellow said it was. And the next time, Jay’s little sister went by the toy counter, the man said, “Here, little girl, wouldn’t you like to have this cow?” and gave it to her.

I never think of this story without getting all gulchy and thinking of how kind the brothers were and how sweet that man was to help them.

xx, Teal