Garage sale generosity

I thought I would make short, individual jaunts to area garage sales with my grandchildren beginning with the oldest child and proceeding down from there. The squall from the 2-year-old at the sight of us preparing to leave changed those plans abruptly. I changed the order, winked knowingly at the big sister and said the toddler would go first. Instantly her tears dried up.
After a quick trip to the neighborhood drugstore, we checked out one garage sale. She saw a big purple drinking cup with a lid which she wanted to use for a drum. A quarter later, and we were on our way home. I didn’t hear another peep out of her when her big sister, coin purse in hand left with me for the mini-van.
At the first garage sale, she zeroed in on the box filled with trinkets, studied each item carefully and picked out something for her little brother and sister for a quarter each.
My granddaughter and I are of kindred spirits – we love books. We both gravitated to the selection of children’s books. We gathered them all up, went over to the -steps, sat down and began sorting.
I asked, one-by-one if they already had each book.
She studied each cover. If she said “Yes,” I put the book back. If she said “no,” she added it to our “to purchase” pile. Waiting until she got home was not an option – she proceeded to read every book on her pile. Amused, I studied the rest of the tables of items, added a couple items to our pile and asked her what she thought about five sets of polished chop sticks, “oh momma, would really like these.” She added them to our pile and returned to reading the rest of the books.
The bemused women running the garage sale watched her read for a while, “She is beautiful.”
But, of course,… and above average as well as any grandmother will tell you.
She finished the last book with a satisfied look, gathered up the trinkets and books she had chosen. She paid for the trinkets. I paid for the books and other items. She asked to go to another garage sale. We did, but they did not have any children’s books, so we did not stay as long.
Back at the house, her little brother pulled on clothes to go. His mother counted out three quarters, a couple dimes and nickels and a penny. “You have one dollar and six cents,” she emphasized. He looked at her blankly. She opened the Velcro pocket on his shorts and stuffed the money in. “This is your money for going to the garage sales.”
He nodded and headed for the door.
As we walked down the alley to the garage sale, he perused the offerings. “That is a girl’s toy. Maybe Ginger would like that,” he said, but did not pick it up. In the back he found a, cart full of toys designed with an eye for boys at a quarter or two a piece. He pulled out a dollar’s worth of toys that he liked and went to pay for them.
When the woman said his toys would cost a dollar, he stopped, looked at the toys, and muttered something about needing to buy something for Ginger. He ran back to the ‘cart and tossed in 50 cents worth of toys. I was amazed. He knew how much money he had, how much he needed to have and that he needed more than 6 cents to buy something for his sister.
I had run out of garage sales. We went to a thrift shop. He found a trinket for each sister. At the check out, he shoved his purchases and a quarter at the clerk. She gave him back 3 cents.
“Momma will be really happy that I got change,” he smiled and pushed the coins into his short’s pocket,
He had found something for himself and his sisters, he was ready to go home.
They each got a trinket or two to entertain them for a minute. I came home with a treasured memory of generosity to occupy my thoughts for many days.
(Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Thnes.)