A Lesson From Dad

There are very few things I remember about my childhood, but this day I will never forget. It was hot, one of the hottest days of that year according to the news. My dad and I had stopped at the liquor store for his weekly lottery tickets and my cherry/blueberry icee. Standing at the register was a young boy and even younger girl by his side, she must've been his baby sister. I remember noticing their clothes; old looking, and dirty. His high-water jeans had a hole in the knee, not like the the hole you might find at the knee of a brand new pair of girls jeans; but like a hole caused by playing in them, or wearing them all the time. His shirt collar was loose around his neck and there were dirt stains all over it. The little girls clothes weren't in any better condition. I remember looking around for their parent. Where was their mother? I wondered.

“This isn't enough.” the man behind the register said after counting the pocketful of change the little boy had just handed him.

“That's ok. I'll just take one then.”, the little boy replied, looking down at his sister.

My dad must've noticed there was no one else in the store as well because just before the cashier removed one of the two popsicles from the sale, my dad stopped him:

“Wait!”, my dad said. “I'll cover it.”, he continued as he moved towards the register.

“Thank you.”, the little boy said in a shaky, nervous tone; smiling awkwardly at the strange man standing before him.

“Hold on, I've got something for you.”, dad said, as he knelt down.

The suspense was killing me, I had to know what my dad could possibly have for two kids hes never met before. I'm an only child, daddy's girl for sure, I guess that's why all of this made me a bit jealous, but more than that I was curious. I watched him intently as he opened up his wallet and pulled out an old five dollar bill that he had tucked away. This was no ordinary bill though. I know because I remember seeing it some time before that day and asking what was so special about. Along the outer border of the bill, someone had written; Gifts are not to be paid back, they are to be paid forward, and my dad had seemed to develop some kind of sentimental attachment to it.

“Us good men have to stick together, we've got loved ones to take care of.”, he said, letting out a sincere chuckle as he put his hand out with the five dollar in it for the boy.

The young boy hesitated for a moment before he accepted the money. Perhaps he didn't want to seem desperate. Or maybe he was taught not to accept gifts from strangers. Whatever his reason, he quickly forgot and took the five dollar bill from by dad's hand. He smiled, thanked my dad once more and walked off with his baby sister. I never understood why my dad was so nice to that boy, but I would one day.

That day was about a year ago. Over twenty years had gone by and I had just moved back into my parents house with my two year old son. I stopped at that same liquor store on my way home one evening to grab some milk and whatever the baby wanted at that moment.

“Oh we don't accept EBT, I'm sorry.”, the cashier said as he handed me back the card.

I didn't have the time or patience to go anywhere else. To make matters worse, my two year old was now throwing a fit because I had to take back the bag of chips I just told him he could have. I bent down to pick up my child, who was now hysterical on the floor, and I noticed a man standing to my left. He was tall, handsome, extremely well dressed; slacks, button up, tie and his shoes, his shoes had to have been Ferragamo or some other insanely expensive designer name. Our eyes met briefly as I stood up, my screaming toddler in my arms. I could feel my face getting hot and my palms getting sweaty from the embarrassment.

“I---. I'm uh, sorry.”, I uttered awkwardly, trying to smile normally but failing miserably.

“Don't worry about it, I understand.”, he responded with almost arrogant confidence.

I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I left my failed purchase on the counter and almost made it to the exit.

“Hey wait, I've got something for you.” the man yelled out.

It startled me, I just stood there, frozen; as if I was being yelled at by my dad. He grabbed his bag of goodies from the register and started walking towards me.

“I think you forgot your stuff Miss.” he says with a familiar smile.

“Thank you so much.”, “You didn't have t---”. Before I could finish my sentence he stopped me, handed me the bag and pulled out his wallet.

What is getting out his wallet for? I thought to myself.Does he think im a charity case or something? From the very back of his wallet, he pulled out an old, folded up five dollar bill. Along the outer border of the bill some had written: Gifts are not to be paid back, they are to be paid forward.