1.2 The Bobby Pins
When I was seven years old, I overheard my
mother tell one of her friends that the following day was to be her 30th
birthday. Two things occurred to me when I heard that: one, I had
never before realized that my mother had a birthday; and
two, I could not recall her ever getting the birthday present.
Well,
I could do something about that. I went into my bedroom opened piggy bank and
took out all the money that was inside: fivenickels. That
represented five weeks' worth of my allowance. Then I walked to the little
store around the corner from my house, and I told the proprietor, Mr. Sawyer, that I wanted buy a
birthday present for my mother.
He
showed me everything in his store that could be had for a quarter. There were several ceramic figurines. My mother would have loved those, but
she already had a house full of them and I was the one who had to dust them
once a week. They definitely would not do. There were also some small boxes
of candy. My mother was diabetic, so I knew they would not be appropriate.
The
last thing Mr. Sawyer showed me was a package of bobby pins. My mother had beautiful long black
hair and twice a week she washed and pin curled it.
When she took the pincurls down next day, she looked just like a movie star
with those long dark curlscascading around her shoulders. So I decided
those bobby pins would be the perfect gift for my mother. I gave Mr. Sawyer my
five nickels, and he gave me the bobby pins.
I
took the bobby pins home and wrapped them in a colourful sheet from the
Sunday comics (there was no money left for wrapping
paper). The next morning, while my family was seated at the breakfast table, I
walked up to my mother and handed her that package, and said, “Happy Birthday
Momma!”
My
mother sat there for a moment in stunned silence. Then, with tears in
her eyes, she tore at the comic-strip wrapping. By the time she got to the
bobby pins she was sobbing.
"I'
m sorry momma, “I apologized. I did not mean to make you cry. I just wanted
you to have a happy birthday”.
“Oh honey, I am happy!” she told me. And I looked
into her eyes, and I could see that she was smiling through her tears. “Why, do
you know that this is the first birthday present that I have ever received in
my entire life?”
she exclaimed.
Then
she kissed me on the cheek and said, “Thank you honey.” And she
turned to my sister and said, “Lookee here! Linda got me a birthday present!”
And she turned to my brother and said, "Lookee here!
Linda got me a birthday present!” And she turned to my father and said, "Lookee here! Linda got me a
birthday present!”
And
then she went into the bathroom to wash her hair and pincurl it with her new
bobby pins.
After she left the room, my father looked at me and
said, "Linda, when I was growing up, back on the frontier (my
daddy always called his childhood home in the mountains at Virginia the
frontier), we didn't set much store by giving birthday present to adults. That was something done just for small young' uns. And your momma's family, they were so
poor, they didn't even do that much. But seeing how happy you have made your
momma today has made me rethink this whole birthday issue. What I'm trying to say, Linda, is I
believe you have set a precedent here."
And
I did set a precedent. After that my mother was showered with
birthday presents every year: from my sister, my brothers, from my father and
from me. And, of course, the older
we children got, the more money we made, and the nicer presents
she received. By the time I was 25, I had given her a stereo, a colour television and a microwave oven
(which she traded in for a vacuum cleaner).
For
my mother's 50th birthday, my brother and my sister and I pulled our resources and got her something spectacular: a ring set with a pearl surrounded
by a cluster of diamonds. And when my oldest brother handed that ring to her at
the party that was given in her honor, she opened up the velvet gift box and peered at
the ring inside. Then she smiled and turned the box around so that her guests
could see her special gift, and she said, "Don't I have wonderful
children?" Then she passed the ring around the room, and it was thrilling
to hear the collective sigh that
rippled through that room as the ring was passed from hand to hand.
After
the guests were
gone, I stayed to help clean up. I was doing the dishes in the kitchen when I
overheard a conversationbetween
my mother and father in the next room. “Well, Pauline,” my father said, “that’s
a mighty present you’ve got there. I reckon that’s about the best birthday present
you’ve ever had.”
My
own eyes filled with tears when I heard her reply. "Ted," she said
softly, "that's a mighty pretty ring and that's a fact. But the best
birthday present I ever got! Well, that was package of bobby pins."
