Though I knew better than to ever ask for money to actually buy anything, the school book fair was an exciting fantasy for me growing up.

To this day, ‘new book’ smell triggers feelings of hope and optimism and excitement.

Back in those days, the school book fair was equivalent to a blockbuster movie preview as it would be months before any of the books hit the shelves in our library for me to borrow and read.

I’d carefully flip through the first few pages of books, which always annoyed my peers as I unwittingly held up the line for the kids who had money burning a hole in their corduroy pants pockets.

“You going to get that book, hun?”

The words from the school librarian dragged me away from my fantasy land.

The dance between myself and my shame of being poor and not wanting to draw attention to that or myself began.

“Nah, it just doesn’t seem all that interesting. I think I’ll save my money”, I lied.

I close the book, attempt to commit the title and its cover to memory, and step forward to the next table.

⏩⏩ Fast forward about 22 years and my oldest starts bringing home Book Fair flyers.

I cannot stop the nostalgia from bubbling up inside and out of me.

“The Book Fair!! I can’t believe it!! They’re still doing these?! Ohhhh sweetie, you’re going to LOVE the Book Fair!!”

Except my bookworm and mini-me-of-a-child was decidedly disinterested. I conclude, ‘you don’t know what you don’t know’ and flip through the flyer.

When the big day arrives, I press a ten dollar bill in to one tiny hand and watch it transfer to the pocket where I instruct it to stay until something was being purchased at the Book Fair.

On the way home from school later that day I ask, excitedly, “How was the Book Fair?”

“It was fun! I got some stickers!”

🤯

My brain went to work to make sense of things. I recalled the colorful Lisa Frank sticker and stationary sets that I had once also coveted.

This kid already had a personal library at home that only rivaled Thomas Jefferson’s collection.

There was money to spend and stickers are a completely logical purchase when you have a mom who wouldn’t even consider wasting money on them.

Logical. It checks out.

But what do stickers cost? Two, three bucks?

“Do you have money left over?”

“Yeah I gave it to my friend. Her mom didn’t have any money to give her.”

Now, I will admit: my inner voice containing wisdom passed down by my parents’ Boomer generation came front-of-mind.

We aren’t paying to heat the whole neighborhood and we aren’t buying books for everybody, either!

But this was an extremely kind gesture.

And not an ounce of shame came from the heart or words of that little mouth.

There was a need. There was a means. There was no over thinking. No questions asked. No shame on the poor mom who sent the poor kid to school without money for the Book Fair.

It was just done.

There is much to be learned between generations when you set aside the things you think you know.

Or, whatever.