I tiptoed down the hall and peeked in the bedroom where the grandchildren slept. Eli, 10, already awake, sat on his bed. “Hey, Eli do you want to walk down to the corner store and buy something with your sisters? I’ll give you money.”
“Could I go with my dad when he goes for his run?”
“No, just you, Caroline and Daisy. Let’s ask your dad.”
Such an idea in this era of helicopter parents and people call the Department of Human Services when a child plays in the park across the street from his home. Send children walking out of sight to the store? Shocking!
Yet, I did just that at their age and younger. If my mom needed something in the kitchen, she sent one of the big kids (5 or 6 years old) to walk down the gravel road to the grocery store with its screen door and front porch. We couldn’t even see our house after we walked around the bend in the road to the village.
These kids could not do that. Their nearest store sits on the other side of busy highways.
I found Eli’s dad Jacob sitting on the couch putting on his shoes for his morning run. “I was thinking about giving each of the kids a dollar or two and letting them walk to the store.” I said.
“What time does the store open?” he asked.
“At 8. By the time they get ready and walk there, it will be open,”
Daisy. 6, came in rubbing her eyes. “Hey, Daisy, do you want to walk to the store?”
“Where’s the store?” she asked, ever the practical child.
“You walk down this street until there is street to the left. Then go down that street to the store.” I repeated those instructions several times as Caroline,8, Daisy and Eli tried to comprehend going to the store in an unfamiliar, quiet, neighborhood with no adult to lead the way.
As their mother Sharon fixed the girls’ hair she reminded them, “Stay in the safety zone (the left side), don’t fight and stay with each other.”
“Here’s some money,” I gave each a couple dollars. “Remember you have to pay taxes, so you can’t buy anything that costs more than $1.80.”
“Here, I will give them the money for taxes” their grandpa said handing out quarters.
Within minutes one lost her money, had a frantic moment and found it again. “Now tuck your money deep into your pockets and don’t pull it out until you need to use it,” I advised before they left.
At the house we enjoyed the quiet, made a breakfast and wondered how they were doing. Jacob returned from his run and had to drive to the store to check on them after Sharon wondered, “what if someone thinks these three are ferrell, neglected children?”
Jacob returned and reassured her, “They were fine. Caroline bought a Slurpee.” Very soon, the conquering trio returned carrying snacks.
“Look what I bought, Mom,” Elijah pulled out gum and chips. “We went to store and the gas station three times,” he later reported.
On their own the children entered both places three times, walked the aisles, studied their options and crossed the street again to compare prices and snacks. No adults would ever have allowed them to do that. They had their own shopping adventure and returned safely.
I washed the empty Slurpee cup. I wrote Labor Day 2017 on it to remind them of their first trip to the store with $2.25 to spend and no adults to tell them how to spend it.