The Dime

                                                                                       

We were living in the house in Laurel, Maryland.  It was a small townhouse located on the end so that we had windows on three sides. I was 5 years old. My bedroom was the last room at the end of the hall.  One afternoon I was playing quietly by myself.  I am not sure what caused me to decide to do this but, having found a dime, I became curious whether or not it would fit in the electrical wall socket.

I remember sitting cross-legged on the floor facing the wall socket with the dime in my right hand. I leaned in closely in order to see my target clearly.  Then, carefully aiming, my dime slipped easily into the right slot in the socket.

Suddenly, electricity ran up my arm making the tiny hairs rise in protest. By the time it hit my shoulder; I was thrown backward and landed against the opposite wall of my room. Wailing in pain and panic, I was pulled into Daddy’s arms. He appeared as if by magic. I know he had been way down the hall in the living room but in an instant he held me close as he checked to see if I had been hurt and determine the cause of the trouble. Once he knew I was unharmed and saw the dime lying burnt and bent on the floor by the socket, he scolded me severely and spanked me for the deed.  But he still held me in his arms and hugged me while he delivered the two light swats so unlike spankings I was used to for misdeeds. 

I really don’t remember much else about that incident but years later when I was a teenager, I saw that burnt and bent dime in my mother’s jewelry box. I asked her if it was “the” dime. She picked it up and turned it in her hand. “Yes”, she said softly. “I was so scared when that happened and I just put the dime in here.”  I watched her face as she dropped the dime back into the jewelry box.  She was looking at me but I could tell she was seeing the five year old girl from years ago.

After Mom passed away, I was given some of the things out of that jewelry box.  “The” dime was among those things.  It resides now in my jewelry box. It still is burnt and it is still bent. A reminder that curiosity, fear, pain, and love all mixed together can make a bittersweet memory .