This is one of my mom's short stories. I am tempted to edit it a little, but will not presume to do so.... Winters in Chicago are harsh, and the month of January in 1932 was particularly brutal. The city lay frozen under a thick blanket of snow. Long menacing icicles hung from overpasses and ledges. Continuous cloud cover made the short days gloomy. The third year of the depression was squeezing the life out even the heartiest souls, and the weaker ones were lost in despair. One particularly harsh day would shape the life of Edna Cloverfield forever. For thirteen year old Edna living had become a nightmare. She had quit school to help earn money to keep her family fed and housed after her father gave in to the horrors of desperation, and hung himself under the rickety stairwell that let to their apartment. Her mother, determined to keep the family out of the poor house, managed to scrap enough money together to purchase a newspaper stand under the elevated train station in the city. Edna, the oldest of four children helped run the stand. Her three young sisters were left to fend for themselves while Edna and her mother stood in the cold, and hawked the daily news to passersby. Each morning Edna crawled out from the bed she shared with her sisters to scrounge food for their breakfasts. Her mother was long since gone to collect the day’s editions, and set them on the stand for sale. It was Edna’s task to make sure the girls had something to eat. If there was any money, Edna would go downstairs to the bakery to beg for any day old bread that hadn’t been sold. The old widowed storekeeper usually kept something under the counter for her in hopes of luring her into his bed. She accepted the offering, but shivered under his lecherous stare, and most of the time managed to hurry away before his hands could reach her. After her sisters were fed and dressed, Edna would gather fourteen cents to cover the seven cent fare each way on the elevated train to the newsstand. It was a torturous job for the tiny girl, standing in the freezing cold, calling to people getting off the El, “Get your newspaper, Sir”, or “Lady, you need to read today’s paper”. Sometimes rude people would stop and stare at her. She often heard them remark that they had never seen a girl selling newspapers before. She would tell them defiantly, “Well, you have now”. If her mother heard the exchange, she gave Edna a swift cuff behind the ear to remind her that they could not afford to alienate even one potential customer. Edna and her mother were determined not to be beggars, as so many others had become, and this demeaning work meant the difference between the poor house and independence. One particularly cold day the snow kept falling until nearly a foot covered everything. Edna shivered in her thin coat and worn out shoes. She knew her mother would not approve of the waste, but she took several layers of newspaper and wrapped them around her feet and legs to protect them from the frigid temperature. There wasn’t anything she could do to protect her frozen fingers. They turned blue and ached as she dropped the two cents she got for the papers into the slot in the locked box her mother had provided. Her mother kept the key so no one could open it until Edna returned home. Edna usually managed to be on her way home by 6:00 p.m. By that time the winter sun had been down for two hours, and dark shadows hid imagined, and real, threats. The city was suffering along with its people, and in order to save money half the streetlights had been turned off. Edna was aware that carrying the box of money in the dark made her a target for muggers. As the last of the day’s papers were sold Edna hurried to close the stand. She dug in her pocket for the seven pennies that would buy her ride home, but to her horror there were only six. When she searched each pocket, she found a small hole in the one that had held the money. Down on her hands and knees, she scrapped the snow off the ground hoping to find the lost coin. She found nothing but litter, and terror caused her to tremble. There was no way she could travel the thirty-seven blocks home without that last penny. She was stranded, and she knew this situation, alone in the cold and dark could mean death. The only way she was going to get home was to beg for the saving penny. So she swallowed her pride and begged, “Mister, a penny, please.” over and over again, but her pleading brought only stony glances, or unkind comments. As Edna’s body grew stiff with cold and desperation, she closed her eyes and prayed to God for help. Soon after, a woman in shabby clothes stopped directly in front of Edna, scowling at her. Her ragged face frightened Edna, and she turned to flee, but the woman caught her by the arm before she could run away. The woman said in a raspy voice, “You’re the little girl from the newsstand, aren’t you?” Edna could only nod. “I heard you asking for a penny. What for?” Edna stammered, “I.., I ah, I only have six. I need seven for the train. I..., I, need to go home. Please let me go.” To Edna’s surprise, the woman took a penny out of her tattered coat pocket, and pushed it into Edna’s trembling palm. “You don’t remember me do you? I was sitting under the trestle over there a few months ago. I had lost my husband and child when our apartment burned.” She pointed to a scar on her face. “That’s where I got this. I couldn’t afford a place to sleep, and I was starving. I had nothing left to live for. You walked past me like everyone else, but then you came back. You said, “Have faith, God will help”. You took an apple out of your pocket, and handed it to me. I was sure it was the only food you had, but you gave it to me. It gave me hope. I went to a shelter at my old church, and asked for help. They took me in, and now I clean the sanctuary for my keep. They let me sleep in the basement near the furnace, and the priest shares his noon meal with me each day. It isn’t much, but it’s a roof and food. You were right. God did help. So, now I can help you. I have this penny, and you need it. Take it.” She released Edna’s arm and walked quickly away. Edna watched her go, and then hurried up the stairs to the train that would carry her home. She would always remember that cold dismal day, when one penny and the kindness of a stranger meant the difference between life and death. She knew God had delivered an angel to keep her safe. It gave her strength to weather the hardships to come, and guided her on a journey that would last for ninety-two years. That frightened little girl would grow up to become my mother. She told me this story, and many more about those terrible years. I marvel at the perseverance of all the people who survived them. It was my duty to take care of my mother’s affairs after she passed away, which included closing her checking account. All she had left to her name in that final statement was one penny.
One thing she never mentions is that she withdrew that penny and keeps it with her always to remind her how fortunate she is and in case she or someone else should ever really need it.
That’s a great and touching story. Really brings a new meaning to the idea of a lucky penny, and a sense of unity with mankind
