Some Childhood Memories

A few months ago, during a trip to the post office, I decided to start a stamp collection for Vera.  I had one when I was a child,, started for me by my mom.  On a more recent trip to the post office, I found the USPS's 2008 stamp yearbook with a spread for each of the new stamps issued that year (stamps included).  V was born in 2008, so I bought it for her in hopes that one day we'll cuddle up together and pour over.  This recent trip brought back a flood of childhood memories for me.  

We immigrated to the US with I was six.  We brought $300 with us.  Before my parents learned enough English to pursue the vocations for which they had trained, they worked odd minimum-wage jobs at a grocery store, a tailor, a painting outfit, fast food joint, just to name a few.  In the beginning, they had two jobs each with no car.  There were many bus rides, and my dad often walked home in several feet of freshly fallen Chicago snow after getting off work at 11pm.  I qualified for free school lunches.    The curious thing is that I have never felt poor or poverty-stricken a single day in my life.  I attribute this blessed state to my mother, drugstores and stamps.  

My mother has this amazing self-possession that accompanies her in any and every situation.  It's a confidence/beauty/poise that  remains no matter how hard and long she's worked and regardless of what pressures she faces.  She says that she has always believed herself to be 'special' and felt no reason to fear.  For one, she comes from an ancient line of Chinese nobility.  Secondly, even before she became a Christian, she says she talked to God on a regular basis and always felt blessed.  In my eyes, my mother will always be a sort of noblewoman...queenly.  It's a good thing that she taught me all about her perspective in life, because I wasn't blessed with the same innate confidence.  But, thanks to mother dearest, I  know what to do to keep afloat.  

My early memories of being with my mother mostly involve shopping, but not of the Mall of America variety.  We would take the public bus home together after I spent the day at her place of work (couldn't afford child care).  With her bus transfer in hand, we would exit the terminal after the first leg of our trip, and cross the street to the Woolworth's.  There, Mom would browse the discount store's selection beauty items and accessories...and maybe pick up a spool of yarn for herself.  She always let me pick out a little gift for myself.  At the time, I favored the little 10 cent fuzzy animal figurines which I used in make believe.  When the time came to return to the bus station for our second leg home, we had our treasures in hand: some yarn for mom, a tiny fuzzy bunny for me.  We talked about what we would do with our great finds and about what we had seen at the store.  We talked about what we dreamed of buying one day, of what that life would look like.  Depending on the bus station, sometimes Woolworth's was Walgreens, sometimes a mom&pop pharmacy.  The adventures were always the same. 


I guess you could call this retail therapy, but for me, it was a much more profound experience.  I would perhaps name it "value-add therapy."  My mom taught me to take a ten cent piece of plastic and turn it into a treasure with my imagination.  She taught me to dig through all the junk in this life and find the special things that would make me happy and hopeful.  She understood that we do not live on money alone, a concept so many of us have failed to grasp.  We are sustained by our dreams, our shared experiences and by being content and working with what we have.  She neither scrimped every penny, nor did she wantonly spend.  She spent wisely, where value could be added, and taught me to do the same.  

I feel that one of her biggest "value add" accomplishments was my stamp collection.  She taught me how to soak, remove and dry cancelled stamps.  We collected stamps off of letters from China.  We picked up a new and interesting stamp every time we went to the post office.  It transformed our mundane lifestyles and errands into fun little adventures.  'Who is that scientist for whom they just issued a stamp?'  she would ask.  And off I would go to find the answer. What about the landscape painting on this stamp?  And I would become engrossed in the life of the painter.  What about this coin on this stamp?  Where is it from?  Wow...the ancient Maya!  Susan B. Anthony, Renoir, Chopin, the Space Program, the United Nations etc.  I learned entire subjects and had whole worlds open before me through these inexpensive stamps.  That is why I am starting a stamp collection for Vera.  I can't wait to pour over our books together and ask and answer our own questions.  What an investment!  A few cents to kindle the curiousity and passions of entire generations.  My mother is a wise woman.