“My First Earning / Pocket Money Story"

What I'm about to tell you is an episode from a time immemorial. I remember exactly what year it was, because it happened on my 6th birthday...
I was born into a family of humble origins. My father was a bricklayer, my mother worked in boarding houses in the summers, and in the winter she worked as a seamstress at home. I already had a vague understanding of the value of money, as I was aware that money came from the sweat of one's brow. But on that day, a special circumstance occurred, one that I will never forget as long as I live...
My mother, at a certain point in the day, if I remember correctly, came up to me, wishing me a happy birthday, and handed me 1,000 lire, telling me to put them away, to put them in a safe place. I actually already had a good place where I stashed a coin every now and then, but those 1,000 lire were special, but not in a good way, in the diametrically opposite direction...
They were 1,000 lire, worn, well-worn, and who knows how many hands they'd passed through before reaching me. I looked at them when my mother went off somewhere, I scrutinized them carefully, until I made my decision, which was to throw them out the window of the house, the kitchen window, because they were truly hideous...
I checked where they'd ended up; they were in the shed below. I was almost sorry they were still there, perfectly visible; they were too ugly to look at...
After a while, my mother returned home and, turning to me, asked where I'd put those 1,000 lire...
Damn, she'd caught me out, I really didn't know what to say. I tried to say something, but my mother quickly realized I was grasping at straws, that I was hiding something from her. She asked me the question again, and then I spilled the beans, telling her I'd thrown them out the window into the shed below...
I don't think I've ever received a single slap in the face in my life, either from my father or my mother. I don't remember exactly what my mother said to me when she came home with those hard-earned 1,000 lire she'd earned with her sweat and toil. But, without touching me in the slightest, her words managed to make me feel even smaller than I actually was. I fully understood the huge mistake I'd made. Money isn't something to joke about, it certainly doesn't bring happiness into a person's life, but wasting it like that, for absurd and futile reasons, was absolutely not the thing to do. From that day on, it was indelibly clear to me that money isn't something to joke about at all, that it needs to be treated with the right consideration...
Image taken from pexels...
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***Versione Italiana***

Questo che vi sto per raccontare è un episodio che si prende un po' nella notte dei tempi, ricordo perfettamente in che anno è datato, perché è accaduto in occasione del mio 6° compleanno...
Nasco in una famiglia di umili origini, mio padre muratore, mia madre in estate andava a lavorare nelle pensioni, mentre d'inverno faceva la sartina in casa, conoscevo già vagamente il valore dei soldi, in quanto ero a conoscenza del fatto che i soldi venivano dal sudore della fronte, ma accade, in quel giorno di festa per me, una particolare circostanza, che non dimenticherò finché vivrò...
Mia madre, a un certo punto della giornata, se non ricordo male, mi venne incontro, facendomi gli auguri, e allungandomi 1000 lire, dicendomi di metterli via, di riporli in un luogo sicuro, in effetti avevo già un buon posto dove ogni tanto mettevo via un soldino, ma quelle 1000 lire erano speciali, ma non in senso positivo, nella direzione diametralmente opposta...
Erano 1000 lire, consumate, vissute, logore, chissà in quante mani erano già passate, prima di arrivare a me, le guardai, quando mia madre andò via da qualche parte, le scrutai per bene, finché presi la mia decisione, che fu quella di gettarle dalla finestra di casa, quella della cucina, perché erano davvero orrende...
Controllai dove fossero finite, erano sul capanno sottostante, mi dispiaceva quasi, che fossero ancora lì, perfettamente visibili, erano troppo brutte per essere guardate...
Dopo un altro po' di tempo mia madre fece ritorno a casa, rivolgendosi a me, mi chiese dove avessi messo quelle 1000 lire...
Accidenti, mi aveva preso in fallo, non sapevo proprio cosa rispondere, tentai di dire qualcosa ma mia madre comprese ben presto che mi stavo arrampicando sugli specchi, che le stavo nascondendo qualcosa, mi rifece la domanda e allora vuotai il sacco, le dissi che le avevo gettate dalla finestra sul capannone sottostante...
Penso che in vita mia non abbia mai ricevuto un singolo ceffone, né da parte di mio padre, né da parte di mia madre, non ricordo perfettamente quello che mi disse mia madre, quando rientrò in casa con quelle sudatissime 1000 lire, che aveva guadagnato con la sua fatica e il suo sudore, ma riuscì, senza toccarmi minimamente, con le sue parole a farmi sentire ancora più piccolo di quanto in realtà non fossi, compresi perfettamente il grandissimo sbaglio che avevo commesso, non si scherza con i soldi, non fanno certamente la felicità, nella vita di una persona, ma sprecarli in quella maniera, per motivi assurdi e futili, non era assolutamente il caso di farlo, da quel giorno mi fu indelebilmente chiaro che con i soldi non si scherza per niente, che vanno tenuti nella giusta considerazione...
Immagine presa da pexels...
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