I read this story just yesterday and I loved it. I know I haven’t written like this in a long time, but I decided it was time to bump up the stories.
This one is real, and just like always, not an inch of written work was copied; I’ve written it all. (It’s a break from my Two Earthquakes series.)
A long time ago, there was a family of a few kids. They were very happy and lived very well. They had a big bank account in the city, Mama had told the kids, where there was some money saved. However, they shouldn’t try to move the money in the bank. It was for very important things.
They were all very proud of their bank account. Nobody else’s family in their classes had bank accounts. They were the only one. Bank accounts had minimum amounts, and they all slept better knowing they had money tucked away.
Papa’s pay was very little, but they always had some time to come together. That evening, after dinner, Papa took out his pay. It was a bunch of dollars and coins. One of the kids had decided to go to a different school. They all agreed.
One of the kids went and took a big box. This one was their bank at home. It was very different from the big bank. They tried not to go to the bank, after all.
Mama took some money from the box. It wasn’t enough. Papa added in his money. It still wasn’t enough. This was a more expensive school, after all.
One of the kids volunteered to babysit. They all agreed and after some calculations, they wrote down the number and compared it to the money requested from the school. It wasn’t enough.
Mama said she would work at a factory making socks. They did some more calculations. It still wasn’t enough.
A sister said she would go and work at a restaurant for an hour every week. Finally, they had enough. They all smiled. It was all like an extremely fun game: Don’t Touch the Bank.
Their brother said he needed to buy a notebook. They took out a dime and a nickel (things cost very little back then, I suppose). Finally they giggled. They were done!
And so it went like this for many years. Each child went to college, all without touching the big bank money.
One day, a grown-up sister had published some of her writing. She got a check and decided to give it to her mom. She had a bank account, after all. She could just cash it in.
She took it to Mother. Mother smiled. “How?”
“You just give it to the clerk. He will take care of everything,” the sister said. She added, teasing, “You mean you’ve never done it before?”
Mother smiled, and sighed. “Honey, I have never been through the doors of the bank.”
The mother had never been to the bank. They didn’t have a bank account. It was all made up to keep the children happy. What a thoughtful mother.
A Family and a Bank
I read this story just yesterday and I loved it. I know I haven’t written like this in a long time, but I decided it was time to bump up the stories.
This one is real, and just like always, not an inch of written work was copied; I’ve written it all. (It’s a break from my Two Earthquakes series.)
A long time ago, there was a family of a few kids. They were very happy and lived very well. They had a big bank account in the city, Mama had told the kids, where there was some money saved. However, they shouldn’t try to move the money in the bank. It was for very important things.
They were all very proud of their bank account. Nobody else’s family in their classes had bank accounts. They were the only one. Bank accounts had minimum amounts, and they all slept better knowing they had money tucked away.
Papa’s pay was very little, but they always had some time to come together. That evening, after dinner, Papa took out his pay. It was a bunch of dollars and coins. One of the kids had decided to go to a different school. They all agreed.
One of the kids went and took a big box. This one was their bank at home. It was very different from the big bank. They tried not to go to the bank, after all.
Mama took some money from the box. It wasn’t enough. Papa added in his money. It still wasn’t enough. This was a more expensive school, after all.
One of the kids volunteered to babysit. They all agreed and after some calculations, they wrote down the number and compared it to the money requested from the school. It wasn’t enough.
Mama said she would work at a factory making socks. They did some more calculations. It still wasn’t enough.
A sister said she would go and work at a restaurant for an hour every week. Finally, they had enough. They all smiled. It was all like an extremely fun game: Don’t Touch the Bank.
Their brother said he needed to buy a notebook. They took out a dime and a nickel (things cost very little back then, I suppose). Finally they giggled. They were done!
And so it went like this for many years. Each child went to college, all without touching the big bank money.
One day, a grown-up sister had published some of her writing. She got a check and decided to give it to her mom. She had a bank account, after all. She could just cash it in.
She took it to Mother. Mother smiled. “How?”
“You just give it to the clerk. He will take care of everything,” the sister said. She added, teasing, “You mean you’ve never done it before?”
Mother smiled, and sighed. “Honey, I have never been through the doors of the bank.”
The mother had never been to the bank. They didn’t have a bank account. It was all made up to keep the children happy. What a thoughtful mother.