If I Were a Rich . . .

First of all, I want to say that this picture doesn’t remind me of untold riches.

There are two things it reminds me of – one of them are family poker nights when I was a child. My nan, who I never met, used to hold card schools. When mum grew up, her and all her siblings played cards. Not to the extent my nan did, but for pennies and half-pennies.

We used to meet up once a month and play poker. We collected our pennies in a big bottle, and took them with us. I remember my uncle had a fruit machine in the corner of the room. As kids we played with two pence pieces. My aunt and uncle used some of that money to go on holiday.

In return my aunt would bake up a feast. Apple pies, cakes, and cheese and cucumber sandwiches. When the adults started to play poker, we were sent upstairs to bed. When we grew older we were aloud to join in.

The other is family holidays – we would save up our pennies in a jar to spend on holiday. We weren’t rich, but we weren’t poor either. Those holidays were a time away from work and school. We would spend money at prize bingo, and the two pence machines. When my children were growing up, they too enjoyed saving their pennies.

There will be a day when they get rid of these copper coins. They are not in use any more. I still remember the half-pennies and thrupenny bit. Both are gone now. It won’t be long before these coins will disappear too.

Published by writerravenclaw

I am a fifty something mother of two grown up children, and one beautiful grandchild. I have been married for nearly thirty-four years. My first book was published ten years ago. I wrote my book Sticks and Stones because of my experience of being bullied at school.

4 thoughts on “If I Were a Rich . . .

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