Hard Lessons

piggy bank

Without being taught to be, I’ve always been a saver of money. As a child, while other children begged their parents to buy them things, I would beg mine not to. The thought of someone spending money on me always caused me anxiety, still does.

I would rather people spend their hard earned money on themselves than on me. Even as a child, if I needed something, I preferred buying it myself. Therefore, anytime I was given money for birthdays, Christmas, or from the tooth fairy I would save it.

Around the age of 5, I started stashing money away. Occasionally, my mom would ask me if I wanted to buy something and each time I would tell her no. I refused to spend it, waiting for the day that I truly needed or wanted something.

After two or three years, I had saved up $60. Back in the 80s that was a lot of money, especially for a 7-8 year old. One day my mother, sister and I were getting ready to go to Walmart. I went into my room and stood there for a while contemplating whether or not to take my money with me.

For the first time since I began saving it, I decided to put it into my small wallet and take it along. Maybe I would find something that it was worthy of being spent on. If not, I would just bring it back home and continue adding to it.

We got to Walmart and I held tightly onto that wallet all the way through the store. We got to, what I think was the purse aisle. Up to that point, I hadn’t found anything worthy of buying. Something in the section caught my eye. I wasn’t a girly-girl so it probably wasn’t a purse. But it must have been something interesting enough that required two hands, causing me to place my wallet down on the shelf.

After a while of looking at whatever it was, we headed out of the aisle and half way across the store. Suddenly, I felt it. Nothing. There was nothing in my hand. My wallet was gone! Stopping in my tracks, I looked at my mom with an expression of sheer panic.

I told her what had happened and we all rushed back to the purse aisle. My wallet was no where to be found. For what seemed like hours, I stood there staring at the place where I had set my wallet down, probably waiting for it to magically reappear. Hanging my head in disappointment, I mentally beat myself up for having been so irresponsible. Tears began rolling down my cheeks, while my mom knelt down and hugged me.

With my eyes to the ground, I slowly followed my mother and sister out of the store. As we drove home, I thought of how I would have to start all over. Only next time, I would be more responsible.

Lessons don’t always come easy.


This post is for today’s Writing 101 assignment hosted by The Daily Post.

Assignment: Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life, and isn’t any more.

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18 Responses to Hard Lessons

  1. I still beg my mother not to. Some things will never change. At least with her. 🙂

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  2. Doobster418 says:

    What a sad lesson for a little girl to learn.

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  3. oh, my heart breaks for 7-8 year old you!

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  4. I kept mine in a film can, and lost it in the mall. Not anywhere near $60, more like $12, but yeah – that hurts!

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  5. DailyMusings says:

    Oh I could barely read the end of this post- heartbreaking- so sad.

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  6. Awwh a bit sad I have to agree. I love your story telling skills though 🙂

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  7. suzjones says:

    Oh that is a terribly difficult lesson to learn. 😦

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  8. Cindi says:

    The way you write draws me in. I’m mourning the loss of your wallet — and the emotions behind it. Such a difficult lesson, and so unfair for someone so careful and wise at such a young age.

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  9. April says:

    Nice post. I could feel your pain of disappointment.

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