My Story Read Online Free PDF Page B

tired faces that were glad to hear Somebody loved them.
    When it came time to take up the collection I usually slipped away. I usually didn’t have even a dime in my purse for carfare. Sometimes, however, I felt flush enough to drop a half dollar in the collection hat.
    I got in the habit of not making up my face on Sundays or combing my hair or wearing stockings. I felt I fitted in better that way with the people in the Union Station and at the corner meetings. As for clothes, I didn’t have to worry about being overdressed.
    One Sunday morning I was walking in one of the streets near the Union Station looking for a meeting to attend, when a young man in a soldier’s coat greeted me.
    â€œHelp the disabled war veterans,” he said. “Give the crippled war heroes a chance for recovery.”
    He was carrying a box full of cards with small tin stars pinned on them.
    â€œFive silver stars for fifty cents,” he said. “Buy them to give to your friends to remind them of our wounded veterans.”
    I noticed he was young, around twenty-five, and he had a serious voice and a serious face.
    â€œI’m sorry I can’t buy any,” I said to him. “I haven’t any money.”
    â€œYou got fifty cents,” he answered. “That’s all they cost—five stars for fifty cents. Don’t you want to help the war wounded?”
    â€œI would like to very much,” I said, “but I haven’t even carfare to ride home. I have to walk.”
    â€œYou don’t say,” he said. “You haven’t even got a dime, eh?”
    â€œNot today,” I said. “I’ll have some money tomorrow, and if I should see you then I’ll be glad to buy your silver stars.”
    I noticed that we were walking together. He had put the cover on the box he was carrying.
    â€œI wouldn’t let you buy these tin stars tomorrow if I met you,” he suddenly spoke up.
    â€œWhy not?” I asked.
    â€œBecause they’re fakes,” he said. “The money doesn’t go to any war wounded. Half of what I get I keep. The other half goes to a couple crooks I’m working for. Where you going?”
    â€œI was going to one of those meetings on the corner,” I said.
    â€œThere’s one a couple blocks down,” he said. “I just worked the crowd there. I got three bucks.”
    I didn’t say anything.
    â€œI’m really a war veteran myself,” he went on. “There’s no fake about that. I was in France and Germany. Infantry. The reason I’m working for these crooks now selling these fake stars is I don’t want to go home. My pa wants me, but I don’t want to go.”
    â€œWhy don’t you?” I asked.
    â€œBecause he wants me to work on his farm,” he said. “He’s got a farm in Ohio. I said to him, nothing doing. I’m not going to be a lousy farmer and work all my life for nothing like you. We had a fight, and I lit out. I was on the bum a while and couldn’t connect with a job. Then I run into this outfit with the fake stars. They bought me a couple drinks, and I agreed to go in with them. It’s easy money.”
    He didn’t say anything for a while. Then he stopped walking.
    â€œCan you stand here awhile?” he said. “I want to ask you something.”
    I stood in front of a grocery store. He smiled at me for the first time.
    â€œWhat I want to ask you,” he said, “is if you’ll marry me.”
    I didn’t answer him.
    â€œI mean it,” he got excited. “If you’ll marry me, I’ll go back to the farm with you. And I’ll be a farmer. It wouldn’t be so bad. We could have fun. There’s a town twenty miles away. What do you say?”
    â€œYou don’t even know who I am or what I am,” I said.
    â€œI like your looks,” he said. “I’ve seen a lot of girls. There’s something about you I like.