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Aways Enough
by Phyllis Berentsen

The other day my husband and I shared our memories of growing up during the depression. His experience was very different from mine. I didn’t know there was a depression. My dad always had a job. He was superintendent of transportation for the Milwaukee Transport Company. Buses and streetcars continued to run. Frank’s dad, on the other hand, worked for the Lake Carriers’ Association, which closed during the depression. His dad worked sporadically after that.

Frank was very aware that his family didn’t have much money. When he wanted a second helping of meat, his mother said they couldn’t afford it. “Fill up on bread and jelly,” she told him. They bought the cheapest brands, like Sunnyside Oatmeal instead of Quaker Oats, even though it had much more chaff. He still remembers how badly he wanted that balsa wood airplane with the wind-up propeller. It sold for the impossible sum of ten dollars at Le Feber’s department store. It was a dream never to be fulfilled.  

Sporadically, Frank got an allowance. At first it was a nickel; eventually, sometimes, fifteen cents. He spent his money on candy, penny gliders, or rarely, an ice cream cone. When he got older, he occasionally saved up for a couple of months for a movie ticket. Saving for that airplane was beyond comprehensi. 

Frank remembers that, though they had very little, they always had enough. He was glad his birthday was on December fourth. He would ask for money for his birthday so that he could buy Christmas presents. Besides gifts for his family, he bought Christmas candy, because his mother could not afford that. His generosity continues to this day. He is always looking for ways he can help others.

In one way, the hard times meant good fortune for Frank and his family. His father rented out the four car garage at the back of their lot. A tenant in the apartment building next door, who could not afford his rent, moved in with relatives and stored his possessions in one of the garage stalls. Eventually, he could not pay the garage rent. Each month, he would tell Frank’s dad to take one or more of the stored items in lieu of rent. The accumulated “rent” included two sleds, World Books, four pairs of pine skis with toe straps, two end tables, a six foot toboggan, six pairs of hockey and racing ice skates, a ten inch, two-wheeled sidewalk bike, and possibly other things Frank doesn’t remember. His dad gave him the sidewalk bike. They had a lot of fun with that “rent.”

Frank’s older sister told him recently that his parents would have lost their house, if their Christian Science practitioners had not loaned them money. He hadn’t known that before.

Frank’s childhood experiences helped make him the fun, generous person I love. His parents managed to let him grow up, enjoying friends, playtime and a loving family. They kept their positive outlook on life. Frank learned from them. He has a positive attitude to this day, which, to my good fortune, he shares with me. Indeed, we always have enough.
 


Phyllis:  "I am a retired psychotherapist turned free lance writer. Happily, my retirement gives me freedom to experiment with different kinds of writing, play with my grandchildren, and ride a recumbent tandem trike with my husband of 67 years. My writings have appeared in Thema, Mature Years, Friends Journal, and WestWard Quarterly. More are upcoming soon in Alphie Dog, Still Crazy, The Muse, and Epiphany - epiphmag,com."