The Value of a Quarter

Summer break was barely a couple weeks along, but she had been begging for permission to run a lemonade stand since the bell rang on the last day of school. I agreed to Saturday afternoon, if it was sunny—not stifling—out.

The day came and I followed through on my promise, despite not really being up for the labor, the mess, the hours of sitting in a tiny blue chair. When I told her it was time, she clapped, squealed, and put on a fluttery pink party dress covered in butterflies. Stirred the lemonade mix to perfection. Slipped yellow slices of real lemon into the pitcher for authenticity. Plunked ice cubes in plip-plop-plip.

The table set, she unrolled a sign stating, “Lemonade 25¢” in the neatest 6-year-old handwriting I had ever seen, and we were ready to go.

She whispered taglines into my ear that she wanted us to chant together once the cars started rolling by:

“Lemonade Stand! Lemonade Stand! Come-n-getchya lemonaaaaade here!” We were to say these things with a smile and a wave, of course.

She stacked the cups into four even piles, asked me to make sure the sign by the curb didn’t topple over again.

She had to sit on her hands, she was so excited to begin her career as lemonade saleslady.

Looking left.

Looking right.

Waiting for the distant rumble of an approaching car.

Each time one headed our way, she leapt up and waved, a grin bursting with enthusiasm. I caught splashes of juice in my lap more than once.

Our first customer stopped by the curb: a friend I had texted to swing by. Sold! To the family in the minivan en route to softball!

The next was a dad from the neighborhood who drove past us at first, then pulled a u-turn and sauntered over with a grin he tried to hide.

“What do you have here?” he asked her, furrowing his brow in serious interest.

“Ice cold lemonade!” She poured him a tall frosty cup and said, “Twenty-five cents, please!”

In her hand he pressed seventy-five and said, “Keep the change for a job well done.”

Tears surprised me, burning my eyes behind sunglasses. I choked out a “Thank you” as she stared at the cool, sparkling coins like unexpected treasures.

Car after car pulled over, usually because she stood and waved with an adorably toothy smile. Sometimes because she stood precariously close to the road to get their attention.

When they didn’t stop, when they looked straight ahead, ignoring my determined daughter’s twinkling gaze and frenetic cup waving, I wondered, Who the HELL do you think you are?

I wanted to jump onto their hoods and shout, “Do you have ANY idea how much it means to her when someone stops for a cup of our jazzed-up Country Time? Just fork over a quarter, dammit. We won’t take but a minute of your precious time!”

But I couldn’t get mad.

It was lemonade karma coming back at me. I could feel it sour in my veins, tarting up my knowing heart. This is how those other parents felt when I drove by their kids over the years. Sure, I’ve stopped now and again. But not often enough.

I always felt guilty rushing by, rationalizing with myself, I’m sure their friends from the neighborhood will give those kids some business. But I knew better.

It took seeing my own child’s excitement blown back in her face by the hot wake of passing car after passing car for me to truly understand the heartbreak I caused by not making a simple gesture. It’s not that difficult to be kind. Heck, it can cost as little as twenty-five cents and take less than a minute. My eyes were opened wide that day.

Now all summer long I keep a special stash of lemonade stand change in my car. I’m prepared to switch on the hazards and partake in a refreshing cup of entrepreneurship from kids with sticky hands and jack o’lantern smiles on the side of the roads I travel. It may only be a quarter to me, but it means the world to them.

And the look on their faces when I hand over far too many coins, telling them to keep the change?

Worth every penny.

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The 1000 Voices for Compassion is a group of—you guessed it!—1000 bloggers who joined together to flood the internet with 1000 blog posts about kindness, compassion, support, and caring for others on Friday, February 20th, 2015. For more, search #1000Speak on Twitter or visit the huge post link-up. I am proud to share my story and be a part of this day brimming with positivity. Thank you for reading.

Another version of this post originally published on Mamalode.