A Nickel, an Orange, and Newly-Soled Shoes

Ever since I was a little girl, I have listened to storieswas decorated with whatever was in the house.
my father told about the Great Depression. Admittedly,Christmas morning brought other surprises. Each child
I only half listened because I had trouble believing thewas given one of their own stockings that contained a
stories of trudging through 5 miles of snow to schoolnew nickel, an orange (which was very hard to find)
every day. Surely, he must be exaggerating. Like anyand their old shoes that Grandpa had resoled from
typical teenager, I dismissed him as a reminiscentscrap leather he found. Ponder the scene. Simple,
parent who was living in the past.meager offerings to these children, who were
Now my father is an old man and I am a middle agedoverjoyed by them.
woman. His memory is fading, and I deeply regret that IEach child cherished that orange, savoring its' juices,
did not listen more attentively as he told the stories ofand took a long time to eat it. The children didn't
his life. One, in particular, stands out.demand new shoes, but were very happy to have
During the Depression, "there wasn't much of anythingnew soles to make them last "a little longer." And, the
for anyone," Dad always said. That included basicnew nickel was rarely spent -- it was too pretty to
things like food. He and his brothers used to follow theblow it on anything. It was a time to be utilitarian and
vegetable carts on the street and pick up veggies thatresourceful.
had fallen off the carts during transit. Grandma wouldToday, we look at how far we have come and how
direct them to go to the butcher at the end of the day,much we have changed. While we are fortunate to
only asking for the spare bones, so she could makehave so much and not be in a Depression, we really
soup from them. She would add carrots, potatoes, andhave no idea where our economy will take us. Anger,
onions, because they were cheap to buy. As afrustration, and fear prevail among us, just as it was
European immigrant from the early 1920s, she raised athen.
family of 6 on soup, veggies, and bread, with anWhat makes our parents' generation different from
occasional fish they caught from the local river.ours? They simply found a way, out of necessity, to
Dad remembers Christmas as a particularly difficultmake it work. They put food on the table and kept the
time, since there was no money for gifts. Grandpa lostfamily together. Their thoughts would never be on flat
his ice business during the Crash of '29, and with it, allscreen TVs, new cars, and Blackberries or Wii
his savings that he worked so hard to earn. Dadsystems, even if they had them back then. They
recalls how he and his siblings would pester Grandpasimply did without. And they survived to tell us about it.
for a Christmas tree. Grandpa would go out late onSo when you are opening your gifts this holiday
Christmas eve in the freezing cold, when all the goodseason, imagine an old tattered stocking, filled with a
trees were gone and prices were slashed to almostnickel, an orange, and newly-soled shoes. A simple gift
nothing. A pathetically skinny tree, missing most of itsfrom the heart, given with love, is most treasured and
needles, would come through the door with Grandpa.valuable, no matter the economic setting of the holiday.
The kids didn't mind; the tree was beautiful to them. ItSimplicity is a beautiful thing!