This story keeps running through my head. From my first memories of my father, I remember him always carrying his money in plain white envelopes, owned a billfold but never used it.
He had a Christmas thing. He would get a bunch of white envelopes and put money in each one. Then, he would distribute them to all his friends up and down the river front in St Louis.
It was never much, just a few bucks. He couldn't afford much because of us 9 kids.
His theory was, the poorer his friends were, the more they got.
As we turned 16, we got out last present from dad. From that Christmas on, we got a small white envelope.
We're all grown and old now but we each cherish the sight of those small white envelopes and memories of the love they contained.
By the way, I haven't missed a Christmas of flowers on that old mans grave since he left us and pray someone, someday feels the same about this old man.
Christmas is indeed the best time of the year.
Merry Christmas Everyone.
By the way, my father and his parents were immigrants from the old country and could not read or write English well but he was a good American. 4951