Father made it from steel. The size of a cigar box with a narrow slot for dimes. Our box of dreams – Disneyland, Grand Canyon, Hawaii. In our treasure hunt, my sister and I searched under sofa cushions, saved tooth fairy money, cut grass, sold lemonade, and washed cars. Each week we held the box, felt its heft, and talked about where we wanted our fortune to take us. When Father finally cut it open, we had enough for a trip to Lake of the Ozarks. Even so, the Dime Box took us to all those other places in our imaginations.
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Ed N. White
24/7/2020 09:53:56 am
Nice story, Jim. Imagination is freedom.for the soul.
Mary Wallace
24/7/2020 10:58:22 am
A few of us would never have gotten through childhood without our imaginations.
Krystyna
24/7/2020 04:36:48 pm
Imagination on a dime. I still have my childhood metallic ‘shoe’ bank, a treasure trove of imagined adventures.
Pamela Kennedy
24/7/2020 05:37:31 pm
A very enjoyable story!
Sue Clayton
25/7/2020 03:48:03 am
How many tin money boxes did I have when I was young. They never held much more than dreams. Lovely, Jim. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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