Sometimes we get a chance to step back in time, and when we do, it brings a peace that transcends the very moments between then and now. This has been on my mind for about three days now, and I find it interesting that it won't turn loose.
While in my hometown and driving back and forth to our pecan grove, I saw a trailer full of corn and some red objects that looked like fresh tomatoes. The trailer got my attention, but the eight year old flagging down buyers is what melted my heart enough to stop and check it out.
Sure enough the grandmother, father, and son were teaching the youngster that it is very satisfying to work for your wages. He was a cute kid, and dutifully loaded my corn and a few tomatoes into my trunk. I asked if they were going to be around tomorrow, and taking his cue from his grandma, the kid explained maybe, maybe not and sometimes, they sell a whole trailer to one buyer. I changed my mind about a few tomatoes and bought about ten pounds, thinking while I did this that I really wished I enjoyed making picante or canning foods. As I was leaving, I tipped the kid a dollar, and he asked why. On his second trip to my trunk, I told him.
I quickly told him about my grandpa and how he would take us to the watermelon patches when we were young. He told us that we could load as many melons as possible in his car, and then we could sell them around the neighborhood for pocket change, as he called it. I was probably 11 or 12 and my 4 siblings were stair steps, mostly two years apart. My sister and I would con my younger brothers into taking the melons door to door in our wagon for a nickel each sale. We told them we had already done the hard work of loading them in the car, and since we were bigger, we obviously loaded the most. We tempted them further with the five cent cokes they could buy with their profits. They fell for it. The kid commented that he couldn't believe that a coke only cost a nickel.
I chuckled and said thanks again for being so polite and for making me remember my sweet grandpa. My grandpa took the time to teach us that there is pride in working for a living, and what a blessing that has been. I am getting plum maudlin as I hit the end of another decade, but that has its place, too.