The Five and Dime

The Five and Dime

Theology in the Trenches

by Kathleen Kjolhaug

I don’t know about the five-cent store, but I do know about the dime store. I know about this because that’s what I’d spend.

You see, I received ten cents a week for an allowance. When I collected that which was due me, it was usually on a Friday. And as luck would have it, the stores were open each Friday night in our small town. Magical it was as I made my way to the Five and Dime to spend my dime.

Come springtime, I would meander on down in order to purchase one palm-sized brightly colored orange ball to bounce upon the cement just outside our front door. I remember well those bins and what was held within. The asking price was clearly marked, and when I went to make my purchase, my eyes always wandered to the higher-priced twenty-nine cent bouncers waiting to find a home.

The more expensive of the two were approximately the same size, but they were white with decorative baseball like threads upon them. Pondering my pick, I recall wondering what was so special about that ball that someone would pay a whopping twenty-nine cents.

The fact was, I only had ten cents, and as much as temptation beckoned a time or two, I could only spend ten cents because that’s all I had.

When squirt gun season rolled around, there were plenty of kids in the neighborhood who had a bigger and more brightly colored squirt gun than I. Because…you guessed it…I had ten cents to spend and did not go over budget. My little square gem worked just fine…but the fancier rounded ones did look pretty nifty.

Never once did it dawn on me to ask mom or dad for more. They worked hard for their money, and as I grew older, I naturally knew that I would have to work hard for mine too.

Life lessons in our home had a pattern. We stuck to budgets. There was always plenty of food and fun along the way without utilizing purchasing power for what the Jones’ had cause from I remember, they didn’t have much either. Our worth came from who we were, not what we had…and it didn’t take big bucks to know our worth. That came through the earning power via hard work, values which were not only taught but caught, and how mom and dad lived life.

We didn’t’ compare ourselves to the fixer-uppers on TV cause we were the real deal and had to fix up most of what we had. That’s just how it was. What we had did not define us, rather, we defined what we had by taking care of it and making it last.

Yup, we polished up the shoes, wore hand me downs, and honored one another with manageable expectations while teaching values that would help us reach out in life.

Lord, You told that rich young ruler that in order to follow You, he needed to sell all he had. Knowing he could never do enough to earn his way into Your kingdom, that rich young ruler went away (Matt. 19, Mark 10, and Luke 18). I pray he eventually came to realize that like each of us, we can truly never do enough, but must rather rest in the fact that You are enough because You did enough. It was much more than ten cents You paid. You paid it all.

And…all to Thee, I owe. Amen.