Esther Silvius
April 21, 1958
Effective Writing
Miss Evalyn Johnson
When I was only eight years of age, I knew precisely how rich I wanted to be. Now, that is quite an accomplishment because most people live a lifetime and never know. Yes, they may become quite wealthy; they may possess more and more material things; yet have no idea how rich, rich is. But I do! Rich is a whole box of Hershey bars.
How often have we heard people say they would love to re-live their childhood days? Never would I. There are too many miserable memories for me. Too many memories of insufficient food, shabby clothes, and no toys. The bitterest of all was the memory of knowing there was never a nickel for a Hershey bar. Oh, how I loved them. Once or twice in my life I had shared one with my brother and sister. My third of a Hershey was two squares down and four squares across. In order to get the last full measure of enjoyment from each tiny square, I placed one on my tongue and by pressing against the roof of my mouth, the sweet, velvet chocolate flowed slowly down my throat. Each single square melted into a mouthful of manna from heaven. I wouldn’t even take a drink of water for hours because it would wash away the last lingering taste.
The day I found out how rich I wanted to be started as just an ordinary summer day in the year 1924. My brother and I were playing when our neighbor, Mrs. Burk, called us to come over. We went into her kitchen and she took from the shelf, not one, not two, but a whole box of Hershey bars. I held my breath as she opened it and gave us one apiece. Never in my life had I ever seen a whole box of them in someone’s house. They belonged in a drug store or in a grocery store, not in a home. Why, she must be the richest woman in our neighborhood, in the whole town, perhaps in the whole world. When I grew up, that’s all the money I would need, enough to buy a box of Hershey’s. For months afterward I dreamed of being surrounded by a mountain of chocolate bars.
I did grow up, graduated from high school and got a job; but what an ironic trick fate played on me. My job was working in a candy store, one that specialized in chocolates of all kinds: creams, caramels, nut clusters, fruit and chewy centers, nougats, toffee and even huge pieces of pure milk chocolate. For the first time in my life I had money to buy my dream, but what possible pleasure would a box of Hershey’s be to me?
Sometimes a dream will take wing never to return, but not mine. In the next few years of my life it often dimmed but never was forgotten. I fell in love, married, and had two children. Again, there was no money for a whole box of Hershey bars, but we managed to have an occasional one for each of us.
Yes, I have had my share of material things. I have had a fur coat. Rabbit? Yes, but that’s fur. I have built a new home. Had to, there were none to rent. I have had new furniture and carpets. How? My credit was good. I have had a new car. Not really mine, my husband travels. I have had one husband. That is all the law allows. I have had two children. Well, just because. Home, car, furs, furniture and family—all these have I had, but I have never been rich. I have never had a whole box of Hershey bars.
Now that I am forty-plus and fighting fat, fate has again been facetious. I have the money for my Hershey’s, but now I have no need for them. Again, I have accomplished more than most people ever do. I found out early in life precisely how rich I wanted to be; in middle life I know exactly when I will be rich. When my children marry and have children of their own, then I will truly be rich. Grandmother will buy her first full box of Hershey bars.
Teacher’s comment: A
This is good writing.