but one “Nonsense, Julianna. It’s yours,” was all it took for me to start squirreling it away.
Then one day as I was walking down to Mrs. Helms’ house, Mrs. Loski drove by.
She waved and smiled, and I realized with a pang of guilt that I wasn’t being very neighborly about my eggs.
She didn’t know that Mrs. Helms and Mrs. Stueby were paying me for these eggs.
She probably thought I was delivering them out of the kindness of my heart.
And maybe I should’ve been giving the eggs away, but I’d never had a steady income before.
Allowance at our house is a hit-or-miss sort of thing. Usually a miss.
And earning money from my eggs gave me this secret happy feeling, which I was reluctant to have the kindness of my heart encroach upon.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Mrs. Loski deserved some free eggs.
She had been a good neighbor to us, lending us supplies when we ran out unexpectedly
and being late to work herself when my mother needed a ride because our car wouldn’t start.
A few eggs now and again… it was the least I could do.
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