The Christmas Mouse...a story from my childhood. By Dorothy Sweeney
I was born eldest the daughter; one of the seven children my mother was raising alone. During my childhood in the 60's, Mom leaned hard on me as she struggled. By age 7, I was sort of surrogate parent and part time housewife. I could cook, clean, and helped with childcare. The responsibilities sound tough but I never minded. To me this was training. Plus there were some advantages.. I assumed role as quasi-authority figure and the younger ones bought it..That dynamic is still in place today..lolol.
By age 8, I was permitted to travel pretty extensively around the streets of urban Philadelphia. The only requirement then was that you had to know the way and back. I frequently would take 2 or 3 younger sisters about a mile away, by foot or bus to the movies. Shocking today but really common back then, when the world was kinder and gentler in some ways. I had freedom that kids today don't know.
To say we were poor is an extreme understatement. But, I remember those days as fun, fun, fun. Plus this knowledge has colored me and made me somewhat of a gambler. I know how things can be without money, but also understand how to cope and realize that it does not have to be like that forever...there are ways out.. So, sometimes I am willing to risk and am not afraid of poverty.
From the age of about 8, I was also permitted, on Saturdays, after chores, to hustle some money for my own. I earned one nickel for every set of marble front steps (stoops to some) of our neighbors row homes. With my bucket, cleanser, brush and rag, I could cover about 5 sets in 2 hours. A quarter was a small fortune back then, and loaded with possibilites.
So, enough background on me...Lets get to the mouse... I decided at age 10, that I would save those quarters for a Christmas present for my mother. By the first week of December I had saved $2.00. I had told absolutely no one of my money or my plan. And one freezing cold afternoon, cash in hand, I set off for a local department store without telling anyone where I was going, directly from school (I know). Let me tell you about Kelly's Korner... Department store does not quite describe it.. It was a sad looking giant red brick warehouse with an exposed steel beam and glass-painted-green(?) ceiling. The "departments" were 10' X 10' sections, divided by counters and makeshift room dividers of every ugly sort. I loved it! The clothes department offered the most wild and cheaply seductive, cheaply made clothing that the 60's had to offer. I found this utterly fascinating and studied items as though they were museum pieces. That fall, the discount beauty section had a very large table filled with a total jumble of little bottles, all the same, of the cheapest perfume ever made, $2 each..That was my choice. I had saved enough to buy one of those bottles. But on the way in the store, I had to pass the pet department..which was offering a $2 special on white mice. I was stopped in my tracks. I looked in the glass aquarium lovingly at the little cuties for a long time, then walked to beauty supply, then back to pets. I could not decide! I walked back and forth between pets and beauty supply for 2 hours. Doing this got the attention of a security guard. I assured him all was good, but knew time was up and I had to make a decision. I bought the mouse. I carried the little fellow home in his chinese food carton along with my school bag. It was a freezing cold 45 minute walk home in the dark.
When I arrived home, it was 7PM.. I had a vague notion that I might be in trouble, but was stunned when mom stopped me right at the front door... The terror, panic and rage on her face was off the charts. WHERE HAD I BEEN!?!?!? I lamely held forth the chinese food carton. "I went to buy a mouse" I answered. Her beautiful face visibly expanded into disbelief. "The cat will kill it!" she admonished. The cat! I forgot all about our cat! I immediately went into denial.."No it won't! I won't let it!" I was then surrounded by all smaller brothers and sisters to "LET ME SEE!". I opened the carton and mousie immediately jumped right out, landed on the floor, dashed across the living room, into the kitchen, under the table, hotly pursued by, you guessed it, the cat. Mom screamed "Get that mouse!". I ran to the table and looked under. Pebbles the cat already had the mouse. I swirled around and faced my mother. "I can't!" She said "You get under that table and get that mouse right now!" So under I dove. Mouse, cat and I were under the kitchen table, locked in a life and death battle, with me screaming all the way. Then it got quiet. Three minutes later I emerged, with my arm scratched very very deeply and bleeding, elbow to wrist. I was holding half a mouse by the tail. I put the mouse half back in the carton, put it in the trash, and went to my bed for the night.
The whole incident had shaken me all through that Christmas season. My thoughtlessness and lapse to selfishness had cost dearly. My mother was seriously in doubt of my judgement and I knew it. It cost me my very affectionate relationship with Pebbles the cat. The $2 was gone for nothing and there was no Christmas gift for my mom. And I anguished that it had cost the poor little mouse his life. I vowed there and then, that from then on, Christmas would ALWAYS be about giving and loving and considering others and never about myself. I lost a bit of my childishness then. This was a very costly lesson.. and worth every cent.
