I met Jimmy in my second year of teaching. He missed the first day of school. When he arrived on the second day, he said it was because he didn’t know that school started yesterday. That should have been a sign.

Teaching was my second career. At this point in life, I’d already spent 20 years as mother. I’d gone back to college when my children were in school all day because I knew that I’d be seeking full-time paid employment again some time, and I wanted to be qualified for a job that was salaried, not hourly. I chose teaching because I thought that it would fit into a mother’s schedule better. Obviously, I had no idea what being a full-time teacher involved!

The summer Papa Toad and I traveled out to Oregon from New York, before we had kids, we lived out of our car. The back seat held most of our worldly possessions, including three plants that we brought successfully from New York to Oregon. I had the trunk packed perfectly so that our camping gear and climbing gear were easily accessible. With little savings and no jobs for three months, we lived frugally, camping or staying with friends along the way. After more than two months on the road, we were in beautiful Pinedale, WY. For a radical and fun change of pace, we decided to splurge in an uncharacteristic and shamelessly self-indulgent way and go out for lunch, spending money we didn’t have and putting it on our credit card. We knew that in a couple of weeks we would be gainfully employed again, and we were tired of cookstove camp fare.

We ordered appetizers. We ordered beers. We got dessert. We had cappuccinos. We ate and drank and had a great time. Papa Toad and I were enjoying ourselves mightily. The waitress was charming and made us laugh, the afternoon was filled with golden light and we were filled up to the brim with the pleasure of living.

In 2002, I was out of a job. My employer closed shop in September 2001, and immediately after 9-11 no one else was hiring. By the time businesses were again hiring, I had been unemployed six months.

In technology industries six months is forever. The longer I was out of work, less likely it was that I would get hired. I was rapidly becoming unemployable.

“Take care of the pennies, and the pounds will take care of themselves,” was one of Dad’s favorite expressions. He was, not to put too fine a point on it, thrifty (I attribute this aspect of his character to the Fraser strain in the family. Or perhaps it was growing up when times were a bit tough. Or maybe the War. Or something. Anyway, he was thrifty).

So I enjoyed this report about Young S. New, a Canadian immigrant from Korea, who took his own father’s advice (“respect the penny”), and has picked up hundreds of dollars in loose change he’s found lying on the city streets of Montreal and donated it to charity (“see a penny, pick it up, and all the day you’ll have good luck.”)

Ah, the power of a good example: