THE PIN TRAY

Jenny and her best friend Susan were looking around in the variety store.

“I have a whole dime to spend today,” Jenny told Susan. “I didn’t spend my nickel last week and I have my nickel allowance for today.” Jenny jingled the money happily in her white silk pocketbook with the beaded duck that she had gotten at her birthday party last year when she was six.

“You could buy two candy bars,” Susan said brightly.

Jenny gave her a scornful glance.

“I already know what I’m going to buy. I picked it out last week. That’s why I saved my nickel. It costs a dime.”

“Well, what is it?”

“A pin tray for Mother. Every time she sews, she says she wishes she had a little tray to keep her pins in. I’m going to buy it and give it to her on Mother’s Day next month.”

Jenny took Susan by the hand and led her to the place where the pin tray was. Yes, it was still there. It was a tiny oval shaped silver tray with a Scotty dog in relief on the side of it. It was delicately fluted around the edge.

“Isn’t it beautiful!” Jenny sighed.

Susan said, “I think it’s an ash tray.

“No, it isn’t!” insisted Jenny. She didn’t want it to be an ash tray. The very idea that it could be an ash tray made it seem less precious.

Jenny and Susan stood there for a long time. The clerk kept walking right past them to wait on other more prosperous looking customers. Finally Jenny took one of the nickels out of her pocketbook and tapped it loudly on the glass that divided the counter. The clerk came over, and eying her coldly, asked, “Well, what do you want?”

“I want to buy this,” and Jenny pointed to the pin tray and handed her the two nickels.

The pin tray was small enough to fit into Jenny’s pocketbook, making it bulge just a little, but no one noticed. As soon as she got home, she hid it in a shoe box of her treasures (some rocks and shells she had found) where no on else would look. It was still several weeks until Mother’s Day.

On the morning of Mother’’s Day, before breakfast, Jenny went to the shoe box and pulled out the pin tray. Her heart was beating rapidly. This was the first present she had ever bought for Mother all by herself.

“I got you something for Mother’s Day,” Jenny said timidly.

“For me?” Mother asked in an animated voice.

Jenny handed her the pin tray.

“It’s to keep your pins in,” Jenny explained.

She could tell that Mother was pleased. “Well, thank you, thank you.. You knew just what I wanted all right. It’s just the thing.” She put it on the table for all to see.

Both Daddy and Margaret agreed that it was a fine gift. Jenny didn’t know when she had been happier.

After dinner that day, Aunt Edith and Uncle Charles came over from a nearby town to spend the afternoon. Their children, one older than Margaret and the other a little younger, were not along. Jenny loved to hear Aunt Edith talk. She had a beautiful musical voice. Her favorite expression was, “Well, for pity’s sake,” and she said it often.

“Let me show you the nice gift that Jenny got me,” Mother said. When Aunt Edith saw the little silver tray, she joked, “It’s very cute, but I didn’t know you smoked Mae.”

“I don’t, of course. It’s a pin tray for me to use when I sew.”

“Why, of course. I should say,” Aunt Edith said, and Jenny saw that eye twinkling amused look pass between them that adults think children don’t understand.

Jenny went outside and sat on the edge of the brick walk. She put her arm around the dog, who wagged his tail and licked her face. The pin tray had turned into an ash tray and Jenny’s joy had turned to ashes. Now it seemed as if the wonderful gift was all wrong.
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