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ӢZ(y)x

oҸpZ(y)

r(sh)g2025-02-07 23:01:23 ӢZ(y)x ҪͶ
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oҸpZ(y)

Z(y)@ϵ۵X(qin)߀؁(li)҂Ioϵ۵͕̾(hu )n߀o҂”ǰٷ־W(wng)СoҵġoҸpZ(y)gӭx!

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After starving as a barber during the Depression2, my father traded his straight razor3 for a bench saw at the local lumberyard. His salary wasn't much, but it was steady. Mama was filled with thanksgiving so thankful in fact that she vowed to tithe the family earnings to the Lord. Every Sunday she would go to her tithe box a colorful White Owl cigar box extract some dollar bills from it, deposit the money into a church?provided envelope, and hand it to Dad to drop in the offering4 plate.

ڴʒlr(sh)Үl(f)ĸHI֮ԼۯBʽ굶QľȥAľ(chng)벻Ƿ˳M(mn)(zh)м֮Œ(sh)ĸм֮ˏl(f)Ҫļп۳һ֫Ioϵÿ(g)(hu )óľI——һ(g)ɫ“؈^”Ɵ——г׏nƱṩŷoְȥŵõķIP(pn)

Because Mama and Dad lived from paycheck to paycheck, that cigar box also served as a last?gasp fund5 for family emergencies. It always had to be repaid. Mama was picky6 about what constituted an emergency. A new pair of shoes was not necessary if the old ones could be restitched7, half?soled8 or heeled. Neither was a new Easter dress for her or my sister, not if Mama could find some material, fashion a pattern, and sew it herself.

֋΢нˮ^(gu)ǂ(g)еX(qin)Ҳ˼еľȼ^(gu)ºðX(qin)߀ȥʲôǼЇҎһpfЬ߀aһ(g)ǰƻԒ(hu)͛](mi)бҪI(mi)Ь߀ҵһЩOӋһNʽԼÿpƏͻBȹԒ(hu)ҲQI(mi)µ

During World War II Dad was drafted9 and went off to war, leaving behind Mama and three kids. Only 10 years old at the time, I contributed a little to the family financial pool10 with money earned from delivering the Toledo Blade. I delivered my newspapers on an old dilapidated11 bicycle. The fenders were gone, the frame was bent and both pedals were missing. Flat tires were my biggest problem. I carried a repair kit12 and pump with me so I could mend tires on the go. “I've put my name on the bicycle list at Mr. Martin's hardware store,” I revealed one night at dinner. Because of the war, bicycles were in short supply. “You could use a new bike,” Mama said. Was a bike an emergency? I didn't know what Mama's thought was at the time.

gְ֑ȥˑ(chng)‹҂3(g)mȻr(sh)Ҳ10qҲͨ^(gu)͡R൶Ј󡷞ͥ(jng)һTһvf܇(ch)͈܇(ch)ǰ嶼](mi)܇(ch)܏ɂ(g)_̤Ҳ](mi)T̥^۵Ć(wn)}S펧(zh)ߺʹͲ@ҿSr(sh)ḁ“R̵ӛʂI(mi)v܇(ch)”һr(sh)͸¶f(shu)ڑ𠎵ԭ܇(ch)ȱ“v܇(ch)” f(shu) һv܇(ch)Ǽм?Ҳ֪r(sh)

One day I saw Mr. Martin in front of his store assembling a shiny red Rollfast. “Ain't it a beauty?” he said. “And your name's at the top of the list.” “How much?” I asked breathlessly. Mr. Martin wiped his hand on his apron. “Forty?one dollars,” he said. “Don't sell it to anyone else until I get back,” I shouted over my shoulder. I jumped on my old bike and rattled home. “Mr. Martin's got my bike,” I exclaimed, running into the house. “It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen apple red with gray trim and chrome1 wheels.” Mama looked up from her ironing board and asked, “How much does it cost?” “Forty?one dollars,” I said. “I've got about twenty saved.” Mama pursed2 her lips, considering the situation. She started to shake her head no, but something stopped her.

һҿҊ(jin)RڵT(mn)ڽMbһvļtɫ“wL”܇(ch)“@܇(ch)DzǺƯ?” f(shu)“ڵӛεĵһλ” “X(qin)?” ס(wn)Rڇȹϲ˲f(shu)“41K” “eu(mi)oeҺܿͻ؁(li)” ߅߅^f܇(ch)һ·֨•æTؼ“Rv܇(ch)Ҫu(mi)o” Ҵ•wM(jn)“ě](mi)Ҋ(jin)^(gu)@ôƯ܇(ch)——O(png)t(zh)߅߀tϽ܇(ch)݆” ĠC°̧^(wn) “X(qin)?” “41K” f(shu)“Ҕ˲20K” 촽(zh)@_(ki)ʼu^f(shu)֪ôͣס

She went to her bedroom and came back with the White Owl box in hand. She opened it and began counting, pulling out two fives first, followed by several ones. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen... Then she stopped counting. For the first time in my life, the box seemed to be empty. I felt a hollowness of disappointment I'd never known before. Lord, please help her find three more dollars, I prayed, closing my eyes tight. When I opened them I saw her reach into the box again and pull out a little blue cloth purse with a silver catch on it. From the purse she extracted another dollar, another and another until she reached the required number.

ȥP(zh)ǂ(g)“؈^”Iг(li)_(ki)_(ki)ʼX(qin)ó˃ɏ5K(zh)ó(li)׏1K161718 …… ȻͣסƽһX(ju)@(g)ƺҸеһNδ^(gu)ʧϵ͎ҵ3KX(qin)Ҿo]p\(zh)ұ_(ki)۾r(sh)ҿҊ(jin)M(jn)˺óһ(g){ɫСX(qin)һlyɫi@(g)X(qin)ó1K1K1KֱX(qin)򔵞ֹ

“Oh, mama, thank you,” I said, hugging her and kissing her cheek. “Just remember,” she cautioned as I gathered up the cash, “this is the Lord's money, and you'll have to repay it. When we give to the Lord, he gives right back.” “I will repay it,” I answered, and I did. On my sleek3 new Rollfast I could deliver more papers. And it was just as Mama saidI earned enough to give back to the tithe box and then I earned some more. “Ten percent for the tithe box,” Mama said and in it went. As long as we gave, we were blessed.

“?zhun)xx” f(shu)(zh)Ha“Ҫӛס” ҰX(qin)Քnr(sh)f(shu)“@ϵ۵X(qin)߀؁(li)҂Ioϵ۵͕̾(hu )n߀o҂” “ҕ(hu )߀؁(li)” һشf(shu)T(zh)҃(yu)W“wL”܇(ch)͈ܶ񋌋f(shu)ǘҒX(qin)яľIõX(qin)߀߀һЩX(qin) “10%M(jn)I”Ҫf(shu)Ԓ(hu)kֻҪ҂o͕(hu )õn

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