Remember, you're not like those people

I grew up in a small town. In that town there were three grocery stores, five churches, four liquor stores and one traffic light. I don't know exactly how many lived in the town when I was little, but I do know they all knew each other (and most were related).

I was born in 1968, so most of my memories of my "childhood" are from the 1970's. As I look back on those memories though, it's almost like I grew up in the 1950's based on this small town. I remember African Americans, or "the blacks" as they were called then, lived in the wooded area outside of town. I even remember the big deal that was made when they first moved into the actual town.

I remember my brother having a job at 10 years old. He delivered papers each day after school and early morning on Saturday and Sunday. He also mowed lawns and shoveled snow. I don't know how much he made on most of the jobs, but since I helped with the snow shoveling I know he made $1.00 per house. Whenever we shoveled snow, Mom would let us each take $.50 to the store to buy penny candy.

The store we'd walk to was five blocks away, down by the railroad tracks. I remember climbing the old wooden stairs and swinging the creaking door in as it rang the bell attached to the jamb. In addition to having the best candy display I'd ever seen (compared to the one other I'd seen in my young life), they also sold hot and cold subs, milkshakes and french fries. This doesn't seem like a big deal today where we see a McDonald's or Wendy's on every corner, but to me it was like a wonderland!

I remember sitting on top of the glass candy case sat the "water game". This was an old gallon jar which once held pickles or pickled eggs. It had been cleaned of its contents, a shot glass sat on the bottom and filled with water. The lid had a slit cut in it large enough to fit a coin of your choice. If you dropped a coin in and it landed in the shot glass you'd earn 10 times that amount in candy.

I remember dropping many pennies into that jar in hopes of winning. My brother would drop nickels in hoping for a larger payoff. He won many times and never shared a single piece of candy with me. There was one time that I remember actually winning at the game. I was so excited! I bought $.05 worth of rootbeer barrels which were my favorite (that was 25!), $.04 in sour balls because my little sister and I loved them (I am sure I said no green ones. Even though green is my favorite color, everyone knows green sour balls are gross!), and $.01 worth of caramel creams (my mom's favorite).

I ran the whole way home. My little brown sack of candy was gripped so tightly in my hands that my knuckles turned white. The only more exciting moment in my young life had been the day Daddy put up a swingset for my birthday! I ran in the house through the backdoor off the kitchen. As it slammed behind me, my mother called me into the living room. There stood my brother with the most pathetic look on his face. He practiced this look so often and I was shocked that my mother never caught on. Each time he'd beaten me he would put on this face and tell my mother how I was such a horrible sister and just wouldn't leave him alone. She fell for it each time. All the joy fell out of my heart and down into my shoes. It was going to happen again.

Mom asked me what I had in my hand. Instead of blurting out the news as expected, I nearly whispered simply "candy". She then demanded I pour the candy onto the hassock. Then with hands on hips she asked, "Why did you steal your brother's money?!" I tried to explain that I took my sole penny and won the water game. She didn't believe me though because my brother had already concocted a story about me stealing a dime from his bank. As she looked at the candy she even accused me of buying the caramels so I wouldn't get in trouble.

She swept the candy up into the bag. I was expecting that she was going to make me take it back to the store. It was worse than that though. She handed the bag over to my brother. There he stood beside her as she lectured me. Her words were blocked out by the evil smirk on my brother's face. He'd found yet another way to win.

Later that afternoon my father returned from work. He had to do some work on the car, so I went into the garage to talk with him. I told him the story about the candy. At first he told me that it was just candy and not like the world was coming to an end. I started to cry. I think my crying annoyed him more than made him want to find the truth, but either way we were off to the store.

As we walked to the store Dad told me that I better not be lying. I knew I wasn't lying, but I was scared because my brother convinced my mom I was lying perhaps he did the same with the store owners. As we entered the store the once happy sounding bell terrified me. I stood behind my father as he asked the owner how I came upon this bag filled with candy. The owner laughed out loud. "She finally did it!", he announced, "That little cutie of yours finally landed a penny in the glass!"

Dad shook the owners hand. Then he bought me a bag filled with the candies I'd picked earlier with one minor change. Instead of buying me the caramels that Mom liked, he had the owner throw in some bubble gum balls.

We walked home in silence, but I had never been happier. We walked into the garage and Dad placed my candy in his large tool box. He told me that it was best that we not make a big deal of things, but I could get my candy from his toolbox whenever I wanted. I just had to promise that I wouldn't eat the candy in front of anyone else. I happily made the promise.

A few evenings later I was sitting on the front porch with Dad. We were listening to the local baseball game on the AM radio. I was sucking on one of my rootbeer barrels and I turned to Dad and thanked him again for the candy. Then I asked him why my brother always picked on me and why my mom didn't seem to care. He was quiet for so long that I thought maybe he hadn't heard me. Then he finally said, "I'm not sure why some people are the way they are. Some people when they have been hurt, they turn around and hurt other people. Remember, you're not like those people. You're my daughter."

Obviously that is something which has stuck with me. As I grew up and faced trials and adversity I always kept it in my mind that I was somehow different. More than that, I decided that I was different because I was my father's daughter. As I have become nearer to my Father in Heaven, that has become even more true. As I remember that I am my Heavenly Father's daughter, I try to be different.