At the feed store counter while my dad would shop around
I'd sit eating nuts, throwing the shells on the ground.
The lady there always conversed and made me feed good.
When we'd leave dad would give her a nickle for the food.
We'd spend our days out on the ranch but once a month when I was young,
Mom, Dad and all of us kids would go to the cafe and we'd play songs,
as many as we'd like, on the jukebox until we left that night.
They were just a nickle so who picked the next hit was the only fight.
On long summer days, to take a break from making hay,
we'd get a bag of change and go to town to have some fun.
Us girls would find cute things, even boys whom about we'd dream.
We'd laugh and say funny things and go home when the day was done.
But never was there a better time at all than that time in the fall
when the carnival came through and the whole town stopped for a celebration.
At parades and rodeos, we had a ball. Fireworks and fairs, there was something for all.
Everyone came from miles around to join in the jubilation.
There were marigorounds, blinking lights and quick sounds,
we'd sit in our seats and the carny would click our buckles.
Cotton candy piled in a mound, ice cream that'd dripped to the ground,
all the fun we could ask for and it only cost a nickle.
They filled the tithe plate on Sundays and provided many fun days
those little round coins of the past.
Now they're the smallest change in our wallets and they're the kind
of coin that weighs us down so we try to get rid of them fast.
If you ever bought, or maybe you've not, bubble gum for just five cents.
Then you'd understand the special coin in your hand and all that nickle represents.
It's not that this little materialistic token is anything to sap over for too long.
But it is a treasure to make us pause and remember those days of the past now gone.
- Trinity Lewis