Lessons from Our Childhood Store
When my brother and I were growing up, spending too much time in front of our black-and-white television was never an issue. There was no cable TV, no such thing as “streaming” or video games, and we had only three channels, one of which was French. It just seemed natural for us to come up with our own ideas for fun.
When we were about seven or eight, we asked if we could have a play store in Dad’s garage, leaving room, of course, for his car. Mother and Dad thought it over and gave us the go-ahead. Dad cleared his lumber, tools, and other items from the left side of the parking area, moving everything to the front of the garage. He helped us make shelves, which were planks set on top of piled bricks, leaving space behind the shelves for us to walk through. At the end of the row of planks, Father placed a barrel upside down and nailed a square piece of plywood to it, as my brother wanted to have a meat and fish counter, just like Dad’s. I should mention here that, at this time in our lives, our father was no longer farming; he had taken and passed a meat cutter’s course and was now employed in the meat department at the Dominion store in town.
Mother started saving empty cereal boxes, washed out cans (sanding down any rough edges), and set aside empty Kleenex boxes and any other item she thought would stand in for items to stock our store. When Dad arrived home from work the next night, he presented us with play money. Over the next couple of evenings, he built us a wooden cash box with slots to store bills of 20s, 10s, 5s, 2s, and 1s. Across the front of our cash box, he made dividers for coins. He also brought us some pencils and sales books so we could record the items purchased, the price, and the total amount owing. Each book came with carbon paper, so the store could keep a copy, and the original went to the customer. Mother gave us some paper bags of various sizes that she could spare so we could put the customers’ groceries in them. To us, we would be simply playing, but from our parents’ way of thinking, this would not only be a learning experience for us, but a way for us to improve our math skills. With the duplicate copies in the sales books, they could check over our addition and subtraction. In this way, we learned how to work with money.
Soon, friends of Mother’s and Dad’s, as well as nearby family members, were bringing items for our play store. It kept us busy making price tags for each item and then displaying them on the shelves. We took odd-shaped wood pieces, wrapped them individually in brown paper, tied a string around each, and labelled them as either a type of fish or meat. We even made an ‘open/closed’ sign for our store. We took an old license plate, wrapped it in white paper and printed ‘OPEN’ on one side and ‘CLOSED’ on the other. We tied a string through the mounting holes and hammered a nail in the garage door to hang our sign, remembering to turn it when we opened or closed for the day.
Whenever we had company, most would willingly become our customers. Mother would give them some play money to use when they came to our store. Every day, often more than once, Mother came over not only to purchase a few items but also to see her two cheerful kids, or should I say, storekeepers. Sometimes she would bring another item or two to go on the shelf, and sometimes she would bring us our lunch. From late May until late September, our little store was our primary source of entertainment, as we always found something to do there every day to keep us busy.
The following May turned out to be the most exciting time for us storekeepers. Our parents had noticed an improvement in our math skills; we were learning to organize groceries on the shelves much better; we were learning how to make change, and there were fewer squabbles between us. Seeing as there were now no animals in the barn, Father wondered if we would be interested in moving our store to where the cows had once been kept. There was far more room there for additional shelves, any surplus of groceries could be stored in what had been the manger area, and the space behind the grocery counter at the far end was big enough for a couple of chairs and a small table so we’d have a place to sit down and have our lunch occasionally. Plus, we would have lights to brighten up our store area on dark, dismal days, which we didn’t have in the garage. It would also be warmer there when fall came, and we might even be able to keep our store open longer.
Talk about excited—there was no hesitation in our decision to move. That weekend, Dad helped us clean out our new location, and then the packing up began in the garage. Box after box was filled and piled in the middle of the garage floor every day after we got home from school. Father parked his car out in the driveway on the days we were busy packing. Once we had finished with the packing, Dad helped us move the planks and bricks, and Mother helped Dad with the moving of the meat and fish counter. During the following weekend, we were all busy. My brother and I busily arranging the groceries on the relocated shelves. Mother came over and washed the large window inside and out. She also wiped down everything that had old cobwebs and dust. Dad installed the new shelves along the side wall and put in new lightbulbs in all three locations.
By June, when our summer visitors came on the weekends to visit us, we had everything in place in our new location. The new shelves along the side wall now housed our drug store items, which we wanted to keep separate from the grocery aisle. A nail had been put into the wall above the window so we could hang our “open/closed” sign. Dad built us a small table and a couple of chairs that fit perfectly. We were so happy then, contented and full of energy, welcoming all our customers who entered. Looking back, we were so fortunate to have this opportunity, not only for fun-filled, rewarding days but for a time of learning without even realizing it. This childhood memory, which gave us so much joy, still makes me smile all these many years later.
Note from Bill: Anyone notice she didn’t get in any trouble this time. Well at least none she’ll admit to. I’m sure many of you did similar things in your childhood. For me it was running a classroom where I was always the teacher. Drop us a line below with your own ‘learning while playing” experiences.
If you like Marilyn’s stories I know you’ll like her collection of short stories: The Kendricks of Glasgow Junction: Stories of Life in Rural Nova Scotia in the 1920s.
Her book is available in Kindle, paperback, and hard cover. Find it HERE.