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THE PENNY JAR"
By
JANE PORTERFIELD
of "True Romances" Magazine . . Broadcasting over Mutual . .
We
Americans arc funny people. We go ahead and matter-of-factly do something for a long time, taking it for granted, and then it dawns on us that we've built up a tradition! Little things, usually, which embody big principles.
One small, homely but significant tradition you'll find in most homes is the penny jar. Maybe you don't call it that at your house. Maybe you have a china pig or a tin toy bknk. In my house, it's an empty glass jar; so no one can have any illusions about how much is in it.
Go into most kitchens and you'll find the penny jar. It's on a low shelf, where the children can reach it. There's never a lid nor top on it; it stands open. Everyone puts his spare pennies in it — from Dad and Mother to the smallest small fry. Everyone is entitled to dip into it in an emergency. It is a point of pride and honor not to take out five cents today if you've contributed only two cents yesterday. Of course Dad might drop in a nickel or dime or even a magnificent quarter, but Dads are lordly things.
The modest penny jar stands for a great deal in American home life. It bespeaks the equality of each member of the family, to give and to take. It stands for sharing. It's thrift, and foresight, and responsibility, and spells for the youngsters a feeling of safety. The fact that the penny jar really docs meet many a small emer' gency is the least of its values.
ne of my listeners wrote in to me about this problem of sharing responsibility among the members of the family. A widow, she had four children, and could not control the eldest, a sixteen-year-old boy. Joey was running wild, in with the wrong crowd— not a bad boy but lacking the proper outlet for his youthful energy. Like so many children and young people today, he was upset by the chaotic impact of war.
Joey refused hands down to do his part at home. Of course, had he had a father, all this might never have started. I suggested that the mother find in the community a sort of "substitute father" for Joey. A man leading and guiding a group of boys, or an understanding minister, or a neighbor who might take Joey under his wing. Some time went by after I made this suggestion. I v/aited, wondering what was happening.
About a month later, the mother wrote me again. Joey has joined a neighborhood group of boys, she wrote. A middle-aged man, whose own sons arc all grown, organized the group and is running it. He combats juvenile delinquency by giving teen-age boys something they really want to do. We need more such groups — for all the Joeys; and to keep society decent for ourselves and our children.