Having Enough - Story #3 of 52

Barb and me (plus a cousin, brother (right) and friends) proudly wearing our "new" ponchos Mom had sewn for us - first day of school,1970

Growing up I never realized we were, what would be considered today as, poor. I credit our Mom for making sure we always had enough so that we could enjoy a childhood free from worry and judgement. It could also be that the middle-class made up a larger chunk of society at the time so there were more families like ours. Or, perhaps we were all more content with what we had. When I think of how hard our mom worked to give us everything we needed I am so grateful to her for allowing us to enjoy a childhood free of worry and fear. It must have been very hard but I never heard her complain - and we didn’t complain either. We never went hungry; we had decent clothes that, while they may not have been new or brand-name, were always clean and not full of holes or stains. She also gave us pride and confidence by encouraging us to work hard and earn what we wanted. If, at times, we had to shop at the Salvation Army, it was no big deal because we knew we could actually get more stuff there than if we had gone to a regular store. (I'm in no way saying anything negative against the S.A or the people who shop there. I still drop in sometimes to look for bargains. Wonderful stores and very necessary).

There was one summer I remember having to pick cans and bottles from the garbage dump so we could get a few extra dollars to help stretch the family budget to the end of the month but I never knew that’s why we were doing it. To us kids it was just another adventure. You should have seen some of the “treasures” we discovered in that dump as we kept one eye out for the bears who often foraged there.

Our mom had to work full-time but also made time (she must have been exhausted!) to do extra things for us. One year, ponchos were the “in” thing and, being the industrious women she was, she took old grey blankets and sewed my sister and me matching ponchos before a new school year started. They were probably better quality than anything she could have purchased and cost her a fraction of new ones. We loved them and felt very stylish. She also knitted and crocheted our mittens and toques. She baked our bread, canned vegetables and chickens and beef, so we always had nutritious food on hand, kept our home clean and comfortable - even when “home” was nothing more than an old trailer or a rough wooden shack in a bushcamp - and managed to give us memorable Christmases and birthdays. Those celebrations were not like they are now. For Christmas we’d get one special gift and our stocking would contain a mandarin orange, hard candies, a few chocolates and maybe a pencil and an eraser or a box of crayons. It was always exciting and we were happy with whatever we received. Rarely did we get any extras during the year so we really looked forward to two special events - our birthdays and Christmas. I think I enjoyed the Christmas tree lights more than anything else and would sit, in the dark, lights sparkling, and feel warm and safe - it's still gives me that same feeling.

We eagerly anticipated Halloween too, since treats were scarce and this was our biggest opportunity to rake in a huge cache of goodies. We usually each got to choose one of those cheap, plastic masks - the ones with the cut-out eyes and mouth (that aren’t allowed anymore) - and would dress up in mom and dad’s clothes or, if we didn't have a mask would throw an old sheet over our heads and cut holes in it so we could see - and away we’d go, armed with the biggest pillow case we could find. By the end of the night we’d often be dragging that pillowcase along the ground as it was so heavy, filled to the brim with candy, chips, candy apples and popcorn balls. I never remember Mom having to sort through our stash to look for needles, razor blades, or “questionable” packages like they do now. That Halloween candy would usually last us until Christmas. We hoarded it, choosing just one or two tempting treats a day because we knew when it was gone there would be no more.

Another thing we did - and I’m not sure if it was because we had little money or if it was just a throwback to the way our parents were raised - was to have only one or two bath nights a week. During the school year this was always on Sunday nights so we'd start out the week nice and clean. After supper, we’d take turns bathing and getting our pajamas on so we could enjoy an evening of our favorite TV shows like the Wonderful World of Disney, the Ed Sullivan Show and Bonanza. I still remember that cozy feeling of being freshly bathed, in clean pj’s, tucked in on the sofa watching those shows. It’s probably why Sundays are still my favorite day of the week.

So, despite not having much, in the way of material things, I think it says a lot that we never felt like we had less than others. Sure, there were a few families we knew who were rich (or so we thought); they lived in a real house instead of a trailer; they had things like dirt bikes, lots of toys, and nicer clothes but they were the exception, not the rule. More of our friends were like us so we considered that to be more normal. We never felt the stigma of being poor, thanks to our mom. We had each other, we had fun, we had lots of imagination and, above all, we always had enough.