Category : Stories

Sub Category : YoungAdult

Growing up in Arizona, in the middle of the desert is not easy. When people tell you it's hot, it's hot! But it's survivable. The adaptation of nocturnal residents is fairly common,  but that's besides the point. Back in the 1970's, Disco was cool, Elton John was a hit, tie dye and skate boards were still the rage, people used colorful handkerchiefs as shirts,   left babies in hot cars...(yes, because it did happen all the time) dogs were tied to stakes, seatbelts and alcoholic beverages were just a suggestion that you wore them or didn't drink while you were driving. Nobody used car seats either. Kids ate lead paint chips, played with mercury. Asbestos wasn't a hazard... fluoride although poisonous, was encouraged as a school mouth rinse, and plenty of children who were abducted remained lost on milk cartons or their pictures posted at the local post office, but...this is just the ambiance of the story...
In 1978 I grew up poor in the desert. My school was ridiculously far away for a kindergartner, and I was a child rebel. I was a non-conformist, to the embarrassment of my parents. Homework and grades were sent home everyday, and I learned quite quickly that the smiley faces put a smile on my parents faces, while the frowning faces did not. So, all the frowning faces got chucked out the bus window. This appeared at the time to be the more efficient solution to crazy teachers judging who was the best at coloring in the lines I was not one to compete with my classmates who, some of them ate glue- so I did not think they were all that bright anyways. My father thought he had the smartest daughter in the world anyways. Since there wasn't much to do besides climb mountains, and wonder if the angels would catch me, if I fell or make mud pies, swim in a Kiddie pool, or ride my big wheel, imagination was key to a healthy childhood. But one day, while walking home from school, I found something unusual in the sagebrush. I had seen it before, although never seen so much of it, it was a ten dollar bill. Now, my family struggled so of course I had to tell them about this gift I had found in the sage bushes. 
When I presented it to my mother she was mortified. Of course,she thought I had stolen it, which wasn't the case. She wanted me to take it back, as if the sagebrush even cared. She even called a few neighbors to see if anyone would admit to losing money, nobody claimed it. When my father came home that night, she told him what had happened. My mother and father prayed that night. It was near Christmas. As a half hearted joke, we didn't have a Christmas tree, but decorated a sage brush instead. There wasn't money left for presents. After my parents talked to me, they had decided to buy a gift for the entire family, and that gift was a toaster. Both my parents had their favorite meals with toast. Cinnamon toast, was my mother's favorite, my father's favorite was dinner which consisted of ground beef and mushroom soup on top of toast, and then of course, toast for breakfast was everybody's favorite.