So my second child and oldest daughter wanted me to edit her
college entrance essay. (Man do I feel
old.) She chose a story from her
childhood I had forgotten about but was nevertheless amused by. I will do my best to paraphrase it. When my daughter was about 6 years old she
announced that she wanted to go to college and study to be an artist. (I am absent from this story, by the
way. I must have been working.) My wife told her that college was very hard
to go to. You needed to have excellent
grades and save a lot of money. Being
the capitalist she was, my daughter decided to start saving then. The one thing she valued above everything
else was her prize rock collection. She
set up a folding table in front of our house with a sign that said, “Rocks, .25
each” People walking their dogs just
looked at her with puzzlement while children going by openly laughed at
her. Not one stone sold. She was very discouraged as evening fell and
she started to take down her sign. There
was a sweet senior lady with four cats who would pay my son to look in on them
from time to time when she went out of town.
She lived just across the street and came walking up to my daughter who
was near tears. “What’s the matter,
honey?” our neighbor asked. “I’m trying
to earn money to save for college by selling the most important things I have;
my rock collection. But no one is
interested.” “Well you know,” said the neighbor,
“I have a bare patch in the walkway to my house and a rock garden sounds like a
great way to fill it. How about letting
me but all your rocks?” My daughter
couldn’t believe it but agreed. The nice
lady reached in her purse and pulled out a handful of money which she gave to
my daughter. Then they took the stones
and set up the garden. My daughter tried
to make them as beautiful as possible and then gave the lady a hug. Then she skipped back to our house and put
her table away. When she came in the
house, my wife asked what she was doing outside. My daughter said she was selling rocks for
her college fund. My wife panicked as
she thought the neighbors would now think we couldn’t afford food and had to
have our daughter sell rocks to make money.
(It sounds pretty farfetched when you hear it now but at the time it
seemed like a real scenario.) She asked
my daughter if she sold any rocks to which came the proud reply, “I sold them
all.” Then she held up the money. My wife counted it and the cat lady had given
my daughter $100 for her stones. Now,
all these years later that money is still in her college fund. As I finished reading the essay I asked my
daughter which school it was for. She
said it was for Stoney Brook University on Long Island. I just laughed and said, “How could they not
accept the girl who sold stones to get into Stoney Brook?
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