When I was in sixth grade, my parents found a slip of paper in the weekly circular that was delivered to our door. It said, “Paperboy Wanted.” And so Mom and Dad, in the interest of teaching my sister and me the value of hard work, got us hired for our first job.
My eleven year old sister and I were now required to take a stack of advertising fliers, roll each up into a cylinder, slip on a rubber band, and deliver these papers door-to-door in our small town of eight hundred. My sister walked one half of town, and I walked the other. Fortunately, instead of getting up at the break of dawn to deliver these papers, we were able to deliver them after school. I also thanked my lucky stars that since these were advertisements, I didn’t have to go door-to-door asking for payment. Unfortunately, every house got a paper and the time it took delivering a circular to each and every house seemed endless. Once a week, my sister and I walked home from school to start rolling papers for a strenuous job that paid very little.
One day, as I was trudging along the main street to deliver my load of tightly bound cylinders, the wind began to pick up. I looked up at the trees. Branches were waving back and forth, and the leaves were twirling around in the air. The sky was turning dark. A dog at the next house started barking. I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I wanted to turn back and go home; my house was only a couple of blocks away. But no, the lesson of working hard had already stuck. I kept on, looping rubber bands around doorknobs. It started to sprinkle. Big, fat drops hit the sidewalk. Then, the storm hit. Rain began pouring out of the sky.
Dad pulled up next to me in the car. He had come out searching for me on one side of town and my sister on the other. He helped us finish our route. In the drenching rain, we dashed out of the car to hang the paper from people’s doors, since that was what we were paid to do.
What a relief when our bags were empty and the papers were all delivered! Dad took us home. Mom placed two drenched, shivering girls into a warm bath and fed us dinner. I’ll never forget that feeling of coziness and comfort of finally being home and being taken care of.
To this day, if the wind starts whipping tree branches around, I feel uneasy. When I hear the sound of leaves rustling wildly in the trees, I shiver a little bit, even on a warm day.
Even though this session of Mommy’s Piggy Tales is over, I’m still writing about my growing up years! If you are interesting in writing about your youth, another session of Mommy’s Piggy TALES is beginning on Thursday, October 7. Don’t want to remember that far back? I’ll be guest hosting “My Young Adult Years” at Mommy’s Piggy TALES starting Monday, October 11. I hope you’ll join us!
14 Replies to “What was probably only a couple of hours seemed like an eternity”
Goodness how scary. Our senses certainly snap us right back to that moment huh? Certain smells, sights and sounds do that to me too.
I have only ever been scared of thunderstorms. And they used to scare me so much I would wake up at the earliest sign, drag a matrass to my sister's room and continue my night there (I had the attic room). She would wake up in the morning and realise there had been a thunderstorm but would never have heard a thing!
I love that he made you continue delivering papers. My dad would have done that too.
That was some lesson to learn. I am sure it made you a better person. (minus the storm of course)
That's a really sweet story. 🙂
Great story..thanks for visiting during my SITS Day!
We had our yellow slickers for just such an occasion. It used to take me a half hour to deliver papers everyday and I thought it was such a big deal. On Sunday mornings mom would help us out because they were too big to carry. Not a bad gig except for the everyday part-
But how do you feel when you read an ad circular? Do you break out in hives!!!??? : )That sounds like an awful lot of work for two kids.
how awesome that you learned the value of hard work at such a young age. Well written.
I can totally relate to that uneasy feeling!
Ginny, I love your stories- you are a wonderful storyteller. I'd love to do your adult years project, but I'm doing the 2nd Mommy's Piggy Tales session…I don't think I can commit to both! Would you be doing a second session later as well?
Christine – I'd be happy to do a second session of Young Adult Years, but I'll have to wait and see what Janna has in mind. Good luck writing your Mommy's Piggy Tales…it's a lot of fun!
Wow! What a lesson to learn…but it has obviously stuck with you.I hope I can be the kind of parent who loves her kids enough to teach them how to work.