Chapter 2: A Dollar a Day

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Reads: 10

chap.2 A Dollar a Day

My childhood was not bad, in fact it was very wonderful at that. I had been given a gift of childhood imagination. I'm sure the creator smiled down on me, through my good and bad behavior. My first 5 years were all early learning lessons on how life back then moved slowly,painfully being young and spirited. Most children are easily brainwashed by their environment they learn a dollar a day makes the world go round,as my mom would always tell me,"Money doesn't grow on trees." recalling the errands I'd run for my grandpa and parents.

  In this chapter I will begin the story about our pear tree and apple tree in our backyard full of life,The apple tree had four branches sprouting from the trunk. The branches were perfectly measured across to build a floor platform for our tree fort. We pounded 2 by fours with nails so many times into the tree eventually by the end of my childhood we killed the tree. The tree grew yellow apples when they were green we'd pick em sit in the fort with a salt shaker pouring salt on em as we ate the sour apples.

  A beehive built a honeycomb in the pear tree one year. I did not like the idea of bees hanging around possibly  stinging us all the time. So a neighborhood friend Ricky who was the same age as my brother. He came over with a can of raid we sprayed the beehive after spraying for a minute the hive of bees flew over all of the yard dropping dead but that was the end of the beehive.

  Back then in the 50s and 60s we were being raised by the depression generation. Who felt freedom for their kids to roam around unattended was more important for the health of their upbringing. Value a dollar, hard work,respect for another human being,take care of your health were the motto's being instilled in us by my parents coming out of the F.D.R. era.

  The turbulent year of 1963 with the assassination of President Kennedy and Johnson taking the reigns of power. As a child I could feel the era changing from Elvis Presley's 50s into the new era of the Beatles with the violence of the Vietnam war on the horizon.

I finished up kindergarten at the public school with my childish imagination and report card intact.I found my report card later as an adult the teacher circled that I excelled as a good listener.So my report card was satisfactory to my parents accepting a couple of misbehavior mishaps. Because of the mishaps my dad began to preach to me,He'd proclaim,"good conduct in school I don't care about your grades Jimmy,as long as you have good conduct." The lecture resonated and turned me into being terrified of my dad every time I screwed up. I'd reach new heights with my behavior disorder being taught by nuns at Saint Eulalia Procial school as I climbed through elementary school.

 


Submitted: February 15, 2021

© Copyright 2021 James P. Bourke. All rights reserved.

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