The
Silver Dollar
By
Pamela
Perry Blaine
“I
wonder what day it is,” Granddad pondered out loud
as
I walked into his feed store.
He
continued speaking as he exaggerated his speech,
“Let’s
see, hmmm, it seems to me that there was something important
happening
today but it must have just slipped my mind,” he pretended
to
reflect as he scratched his head and looked upward as if by doing so,
he
might receive divine help to restore his memory to him.
I
stood with a wide grin on my eight-year-old face, knowing exactly
what
day it was and knowing that Granddad knew too.
I knew
what
was coming next because Granddad had always done the
very
same thing on my birthday ever since I could remember.
Granddad
reached into that small front chest pocket of his striped overalls
as
he laughed through his nose. He
rarely laughed out loud but I often
heard
that same soft airy sound of quiet laughter when he was amused.
Granddad
was a very tall man. He was
about 6 ft. 4” and he had a large
frame
but I never knew him to be overweight.
His hands were large also
but
to a little girl they looked enormous.
As
he used those hands to retrieve something from his pocket, he
opened
up one big calloused hand to reveal a coin there in the center
of
his palm. It looked very
small lying alone in his great big hand.
When
I took the bright shiny coin in my own hand it seemed
huge
in comparison to when he held it in his.
It
was a silver dollar and Granddad had given it to me for my birthday.
“Thank
you, Granddad”, I said gratefully and then I heard
his
soft laughter once again as he put his arm around me.
Every
year on my birthday this scene repeated itself.
I know now
that
Granddad didn’t have a lot of money and he probably didn’t have
any
idea what to get a little girl for her birthday.
He could have let
Grandma
handle the gift giving for him but he didn’t.
He wanted to
give
me something himself, so he gave me a silver dollar.
It
wasn’t the silver dollar that made the gift so special.
It was just
the
fact that every year he did the same thing, repeating the ritual.
It
was the thought, the gift from his heart that said in a very tangible
way,
“I remember you and you will always be special to me.”
Granddad
isn’t here on this earth anymore but it’s interesting how things
have
a way of turning around. To
this day, whenever I see a silver dollar
I
stop and reflect a moment as my heart says,
“Granddad,
I remember you and you will always be special to me.”
By
Pamela
Perry Blaine
© March 2005
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