Dear Folks, Here's a story I wrote seven years ago that I thought you'd like to read again. vee The 5 and 10 Cent Store March 1, 1998 This evening I remembered an embarrassing thing that happened to me in the 5 and 10-cent store when I was just a little kid. It happened around 1937 when I was six years old. My mother took me with her when she went shopping that day-she didn't have any other alternative-and she had some shopping to do at the 5 and 10. As most kids do, I was dawdling along behind her and eventually she walked off a little ways without my noticing it. I guess I was a bit scared when I realized she was gone but when I turned around, there she was, standing with her back to me at the opposite counter. I was so happy to see her that I wrapped my arms around her legs in a hug. She turned around, a bit startled, and looked down at me with my arms still holding her legs tight. I looked up at her with a smile on my face and that's when I realized she wasn't my mother! But, hey, when you're that small and short, a pair of pudgy legs in stockings all look the same! I remember that I felt like I was gonna die from embarrassment but, in looking back on it, I can well imagine that I really made that woman's day! You don't get hugged by a strange little kid in the 5 and 10 just every day, you know! I can remember the magic of the 5 and 10 when I was so small that I had to stand on tiptoes to see what was displayed on the counters. I guess that before you got even that tall, the only way to know what was up there was to reach up high enough to where you could pick up whatever your little hand could find and bring it down to where you could look at it. I wonder how many times I got my fingers smacked for doing that! But as the years went by you got taller and taller and eventually you could even go to the 5 and 10 all by yourself or with Betty or Evelyn or with your sister. That's when you discovered all the wonderful things that were there. Lipstick, face powder and perfume-ah, the scent of Evening in Paris or Blue Waltz. The jewelry counter, the kitchenware counter, the underwear counter, the school supplies counter and the notions counter-you know, where they sold needles and thread and thimbles and stamped linen kitchen towels to embroider. And at each counter there was always a clerk ready to help you. You could buy anything in the world at the 5 and 10. A goldfish, a skate key, a game of jacks, a pair of silk stockings, a yard of muslin or a "cut glass" sugar bowl and cream pitcher. And you could stand for hours if you wanted to, watching the donut machine make donuts. You watched the dough being squeezed out of the tube with a ready-made hole in it, it dropped into the hot oil, then was slowly pushed along with a paddlewheel contraption for just the right length of time and then it was lifted out of the oil and deposited on a rack to drain and cool off. I don't know at what point it got covered all over with cinnamon sugar, but I sure can remember the mouthwatering aroma of that donut machine. Yes, the 5 and 10 was where you bought your woolen mittens in the winter, your marshmallow yellow chicks at Easter, your bathing cap in the summer, your Halloween costume and your Christmas tree ornaments. And if you had 15 cents left over, you could sit up at the counter in the luncheonette and order a black and white sundae or a Mexican sundae or, if you were REALLY rich, a banana split! Somehow, K-Mart just doesn't cut it the way the Kresges 5 and 10 did.

Appropos nothing, "I Found My Million Dollar Baby at the Five and Ten Cent Store." Does anyone remember before those yellow marshmallow "Chicky Doos" at Easter? It wasn't Easter without them for my Mother. We didn't have Kresge's, just Woolworth and Fishman's and later Grant's, maybe that's why I don't remember a donut machine. It sounds fascinating though. What's a Mexican sundae? Ruth At 11:47 PM -0400 4/25/05, Vee L. Housman wrote: >Dear Folks, > >Here's a story I wrote seven years ago that I thought you'd like to read >again. >vee > >The 5 and 10 Cent Store > >March 1, 1998 > >This evening I remembered an embarrassing thing that happened to me in the 5 >and 10-cent store when I was just a little kid. > >It happened around 1937 when I was six years old. My mother took me with >her when she went shopping that day-she didn't have any other >alternative-and she had some shopping to do at the 5 and 10. As most kids >do, I was dawdling along behind her and eventually she walked off a little >ways without my noticing it. I guess I was a bit scared when I realized she >was gone but when I turned around, there she was, standing with her back to >me at the opposite counter. I was so happy to see her that I wrapped my >arms around her legs in a hug. She turned around, a bit startled, and >looked down at me with my arms still holding her legs tight. I looked up at >her with a smile on my face and that's when I realized she wasn't my mother! >But, hey, when you're that small and short, a pair of pudgy legs in >stockings all look the same! I remember that I felt like I was gonna die >from embarrassment but, in looking back on it, I can well imagine that I >really made that woman's day! You don't get hugged by a strange little kid >in the 5 and 10 just every day, you know! > >I can remember the magic of the 5 and 10 when I was so small that I had to >stand on tiptoes to see what was displayed on the counters. I guess that >before you got even that tall, the only way to know what was up there was to >reach up high enough to where you could pick up whatever your little hand >could find and bring it down to where you could look at it. I wonder how >many times I got my fingers smacked for doing that! > >But as the years went by you got taller and taller and eventually you could >even go to the 5 and 10 all by yourself or with Betty or Evelyn or with your >sister. That's when you discovered all the wonderful things that were >there. Lipstick, face powder and perfume-ah, the scent of Evening in Paris >or Blue Waltz. The jewelry counter, the kitchenware counter, the underwear >counter, the school supplies counter and the notions counter-you know, where >they sold needles and thread and thimbles and stamped linen kitchen towels >to embroider. And at each counter there was always a clerk ready to help >you. > >You could buy anything in the world at the 5 and 10. A goldfish, a skate >key, a game of jacks, a pair of silk stockings, a yard of muslin or a "cut >glass" sugar bowl and cream pitcher. And you could stand for hours if you >wanted to, watching the donut machine make donuts. You watched the dough >being squeezed out of the tube with a ready-made hole in it, it dropped into >the hot oil, then was slowly pushed along with a paddlewheel contraption for >just the right length of time and then it was lifted out of the oil and >deposited on a rack to drain and cool off. I don't know at what point it >got covered all over with cinnamon sugar, but I sure can remember the >mouthwatering aroma of that donut machine. > >Yes, the 5 and 10 was where you bought your woolen mittens in the winter, >your marshmallow yellow chicks at Easter, your bathing cap in the summer, >your Halloween costume and your Christmas tree ornaments. And if you had 15 >cents left over, you could sit up at the counter in the luncheonette and >order a black and white sundae or a Mexican sundae or, if you were REALLY >rich, a banana split! > >Somehow, K-Mart just doesn't cut it the way the Kresges 5 and 10 did. -- Ruth Barton mrgjb@sover.net Dummerston, VT