The Lemonade Lesson
The biggest
compliment I ever received was not meant as a compliment at all. Let me tell
you how it happened.
It was
spring, and baseball season was in full swing. I've got a reputation in these
parts as a pretty good catcher, but a good catcher needs a good catcher's mitt.
Mine was three years old and so worn you could practically see my fingers
through the seams. It was time for a new glove.
The problem
was, my parents insist that my brothers and I spend our own money for stuff
like that, out of our allowances. And the real problem was that I'd already
spent all my allowance and didn't want to wait weeks and weeks till I'd saved
up enough for a new mitt.
"I need
money," I said gloomily in the room I shared with my younger brother, Hillel.
"And I need it fast."
"Me,
too," Hillel said. "I need money, too." Hillel is only seven,
and he imitates me a lot. I didn't bother asking him what he needed money for.
Instead, I went across the hall to my big brothers' room. If anyone could help
me, they could.
Mutty and
Moishy are twins. They look alike, they act alike - they even think alike. Both
of them are smart as whips, which makes them good students at yeshivah. And
both of them want to be rich when they grow up.
Most people
wouldn't mind being rich. But my twin brothers have had it all planned out for
years now. They've studied up all the latest books on big business and are
always throwing around words like stocks and mergers. That stuff usually bores
me.
But today I
needed what my brothers could teach me.
"I need
money for a new catcher's mitt," I announced as I stepped into their room.
Hillel had trailed me inside.
"So what
else is new?" Mutty asked lazily from his bed where he was reading the
Wall Street Journal.
"I want
to earn some - fast. Any ideas?"
Mutty just
looked bored, but Moishy put aside his calculator and turned to me with
interest. "Here we have a perfect opportunity to put into practice the
principles of capitalism," he said.
I answered
brightly, "Huh?"
"Capitalism,"
he answered patiently. "Free enterprise. Big business." He leaned
forward. "In other words, making money."
"Oh!"
I pulled out a chair and sat down facing him. "Now you're talking!"
"Come
on, Moish," Mutty called out, still bored. "Why do you want to get
involved in kid stuff?"
"No,
really," Moishy said excitedly. "This is really the perfect chance
for us to try out some of the ideas we've been reading about. Nachum wants to
make some fast money. Let's see if we can help him do it!"
I could tell
Mutty was starting to feel interested despite himself. With a last yawn, he put
aside his newspaper and drawled, "You might have something there. Let's
put our heads together and see what we can do for young Nachum here."
"Me,
too," Hillel piped up. "I need money, too!"
"Yeah,
you, too," the twins said, laughing. "You can be the junior
partner." If they'd have laughed at me like that, I would have felt pretty
bad. But Hillel didn't mind. He just smiled that happy smile of his and bobbed
his curly head in the eager way he has. I felt a rush of affection for my kid
brother. It's hard not to like Hillel. He's not smart like the twins or a great
athlete like me.But he's...well, Hillel is really nice.
The twins
sent us out of the room, promising to give the matter thought. That evening,
they summoned Hillel and me back for a conference.
"We have
just the idea for you," Mutty declared. "A lemonade stand."
"Lemonade?"
I was skeptical. "Wouldn't it take forever to earn money that way?"
"Not if
you do it right," Moishy assured me. "Listen. You go to the market
and buy some lemons that are starting to become overripe - you know, the ones
they'll throw out next day anyway.
"If you
ask, the store manager will let you have them really cheap. Get a batch of
plastic cups that you can wash and reuse. Then you ask Mommy for some sugar at
a rock-bottom price. You know Mommy - she'll practically give it away for free.
Water and ice cubes are no problem. All you have to do is mix up a few big
batches of lemonade and set up shop on the corner. Lots of people pass that way
in the late afternoon on their way from the train station.
"They'd
surely be willing to shell out a quarter for a cup of nice, cold
lemonade." He sat back and folded his arms across his chest. "I
predict you'll earn enough for your mitt in two, maybe three afternoons,
tops."
"It
wouldn't hurt to pray for real hot weather, either," Mutty added with a
grin.
"Sounds
good," I agreed. "I'll do it!"
"Me,
too," Hillel said instantly.
"Okay,
you, too," I said. "As long as you chip in for the lemons out of your
allowance."
"Sure,
no problem."
Mutty then
delivered a long lecture on what he called "the capitalistic way." To
cut a long story short, he said the thing to do was to buy cheap and sell high
and make a big profit in the shortest possible time. "That's what Moishy
and I are planning to do when we're older," he said. "This lemonade
business is small-time stuff, of course. But the rules and principles are the
same."
I nodded.
Though I'd always made fun of my brothers' love of big business, I was starting
to have a change of heart. There might be something to this stuff after all. If
it earned me my catcher's mitt, it couldn't be too bad.
Hillel and I
followed the twins' instructions to the letter. We got the lemons at half-price
- the manager seemed happy to get rid of them - and the sugar for practically
nothing. Mommy and Daddy agreed to let Hillel and me set up our stand, as long
as it was only for a few days. I could sell lemonade for just as long it took
me to earn the money I needed for the mitt.
"I don't
want you spending all your free time making money," Daddy warned me on the
evening before we went into business. "You spend enough time on baseball
as it is, and we don't want your learning to suffer. Earn your ten dollars or
whatever it is, and that's that."
"That's
fine with me," I said eagerly. Who wanted to stand in the hot sun selling
lemonade for a minute longer than he had to anyway?
The next
afternoon, Hillel and I went into business.
"There!"
I said when the last lemon was squeezed and the last ice cube had been dropped
into the last pitcher. "Let's get this out there before it gets too warm
to drink."
At the last
minute, Mutty suggested that Hillel and I split up. "If you take different
corners, you'll make twice as much money," he predicted.
I turned to
Hillel. He was only seven, and with his big eyes and curly hair, he seemed
younger. "Think you can manage alone?"
"Sure. I
just have to pour out cups of lemonade and give them to people, right?"
"Right.
Try not to spill too much," I grinned.
"Got
it." The twins accompanied Hillel to help him set up his stand, while I
got things ready on my own corner.
Business was
brisk. It was a warm day, and the people getting off the train were more than happy
to pay a quarter for a cold drink. I actually earned four whole dollars in less
than two hours!
By that time
the sun was starting to set and it had grown cooler, which meant less business
for me. But I didn't mind. At this rate - if the weather held - I would have my
mitt by the end of the week!
I was in
great spirits as I lugged my equipment home. The first thing I did was look for
Hillel to ask him how his stint had gone.
"Hey,
Hillel, I made four dollars just now! How 'bout you? How was business?"
Hillel looked
shamefaced. Then, for the first time, I noticed that the twins were standing
there, one on either side of our little brother, and that neither one looked
very happy. In fact, they seemed downright furious.
"I can't
believe it!" Mutty exclaimed, continuing where he'd left off when I came
into the room. "Of all the dumb things to do!"
"Hillel,
didn't you understand a single word I said about how capitalism works?"
Moishy asked. He sounded very annoyed.
Hillel hung
his head and said in a small voice, "I...I guess not."
"What
happened?" I demanded.
"Our
brilliant kid brother," Mutty told me, "took every bit of your
lemonade and poured it down the throats of everyone who happened to pass by -
for free!"
"What?"
I screeched. "Hillel, what's the matter with you? Are you crazy or
something?"
Hillel looked
up at me sadly, as if he hoped that at least I'd understand. "You see,
some kids came by on their bikes. They were so thirsty, but they didn't have
money to buy a drink. I...I kept imagining how dry their throats must be and
how good it would feel to drink that ice-cold lemonade...and...and I couldn't
say no."
"All of
it?" I asked. "You gave away all the lemonade you had?"
Hillel looked
down again and mumbled, "All of it."
"Oh,
Hillel," Mutty said in a disgusted tone. "You're hopeless." He
lifted his hands in a gesture of despair. "I give up."
But Moishy
decided to try to get my little brother to see the error of his ways. He sat
Hillel down and gave him another one of his famous lectures on capitalism and
free enterprise.
"Now do
you get it?" he asked at last. "Do you understand that you're
supposed to charge money for the
lemonade, not give it away for free?"
"Yes,"
Hillel replied. "I felt so bad for those thirsty kids that I forgot I really
need some money." He sat up confidently. "I won't forget next
time!"
The next
afternoon we were back in business. This time Hillel assured us that he knew
just what to do. "The drinks are a quarter apiece," he recited.
"No money, no lemonade."
"That's
the spirit," Mutty said, slapping him on the back. "Now go for
it!"
It was a
little cooler than the day before, but not much. I raked in three dollars and
twenty-five cents before deciding to fold up for the day. The new catcher's
mitt was in sight now: only a few more dollars, and it would be mine. I was in
great spirits as I pocketed the money and hurried home.
"Hillel!"
I shouted as soon as I entered the house. "How'd you make out this
afternoon?"
Hillel came
downstairs to meet me, beaming. "Oh, I did fine. I sold lots of
lemonade."
"Didn't
give any away for free, did you?" Mutty asked.
"'Course
not! I told you I wouldn't, and I didn't."
Hillel seemed
very proud of himself. "I earned two whole dollars today, all by
myself."
"Great!"
Moishy exclaimed. "That's a lot of money for a little squirt like you.
What do you plan to do with it?"
"Oh, I
did it already," Hillel said quickly. "I put the two dollars in
Mommy's tzedakah box."
"What?"
screeched the twins in unison. "Hillel, it's fine to give away part of
your earnings to tzedakah. But all of it? You didn't have to do that!"
Hillel looked
bewildered. "But -"
"So much
for the spirit of enterprise," Moishy snorted. "My brilliant little
brother makes money just to give all of it away."
"You're
supposed to use that money to earn more money, silly," Mutty explained in
disgust. "That's how big business works."
"But
that's why I wanted to make money in the first place," Hillel explained.
"To give it to tzedakah."
Mutty threw
up his hands. "Hopeless. That's what you are, Hillel. Just hopeless."
Hillel looked
from one twin to the other, unhappy at having disappointed them. Then he caught
my eye. He gazed at me earnestly as if he hoped I'd understand what he'd done.
But I just looked away. I felt shrewd and smug and very grown-up.
I hadn't
given away every cent of my hard-earned money. I was going to get the catcher's
mitt I wanted. I was well on my way to becoming a real businessman. I was proud
of myself.
Hillel
shrugged and with drooping shoulders walked away. For some reason, I could not
get Hillel out of my mind all next day at school. I walked around with my
wallet in my pocket, filled with the money I'd worked so hard to gather. Every
once in a while I'd pat my pocket to see if the wallet was still there. It was.
It felt heavy and grew heavier as the day went by. I put fifty cents in our
classroom tzedakah box and felt a little better.
When the last
bell rang, I was out the door at a sprint. I had to get home to set up my
lemonade stand again. This might be the day that would put me over the top.
Why, by this time tomorrow I could be the proud owner of a brand-new catcher's
mitt! But just as I was about to leave the schoolyard, something stopped me
cold in my tracks. It was a small boy - he must have been in the first grade -
huddled all by himself in a corner of the yard. He was sobbing as though his
heart would break. I went over.
"What's
the matter? Why are you crying?"
For a long
time the kid just went on sobbing, his skinny shoulders heaving up and down.
Finally, with a last hiccup, he wiped his eyes with a grimy hand and peeked up
at me.
"I lost
my money for the school trip," he sniffled. "Abba said to be sure not
to lose it 'cause it was a lot of money and he doesn't have any more to waste
on things like trips. I was supposed to give it to my rebbe today, but I
I...lost it!" The tears started up again, slow, quiet sobs that knew no
hope.
"What
did your rebbe say?"
"He told
me to bring the money tomorrow, or else I can't go on the trip. And I want to
go! I wa-a-ant to..." He buried his head in his knees, shuddering and
hiccuping.
I suddenly
thought of my own little brother. Hillel wasn't much older than this boy. I
remembered the explanation Hillel had offered when asked why he'd given away
his lemonade for free.
The kids were
so thirsty... I kept imagining how dry their throats must and how good it would
feel to drink that ice-cold lemonade...
I looked at
the boy crying in front of me, and I imagined, too. Then, with a deep sigh, I
took the fat wallet from my back pocket.
"How
much is the trip?"
"F...five
dollars."
"Here
you go. And don't lose it this time."
The sight of
that kid's face as he took the money is something I'll never forget as long as
I live. It was like a thousand bolts of lightning going off in the sky at the
same time.
He was so
excited that he even forgot to say "thank you." But the light in his
eyes said it for him.
* * *
"Hey,
Nachum, how'd you make out with the lemonade stand today?" Moishy asked
when I came home later that afternoon.
"Not so
good. The sun kept going in behind the clouds. Not many people wanted to drink
cold lemonade." I shivered inside my windbreaker; the weather had
definitely turned.
"Too
bad," Mutty said sympathetically. "Why don't you switch to doing
chores for people instead? You could clip hedges or weed gardens and make money
that way. When you add that to what you've already earned, I'll bet you'll have
enough for your new mitt in no time!"
I shook my
head. "It'll take a little longer than that. I'm down to two dollars
again."
"What?
How come? What happened to all the money you earned?" the twins demanded.
Quietly, I
told them about the kid in the schoolyard. During the story I noticed that
Hillel had entered the room and was listening.
"I don't
believe it," Mutty moaned when I was done. "For days you slave over
that lemonade stand, spending your own money on the ingredients and standing
around for hours in the hot sun. And then -"
"And
then you go and give it away to some irresponsible kid who can't even hold on
to his own money!" Moishy finished for him. He shook his head. "What
do you think would happen to capitalism if everyone behaved that way?"
"I don't
know," I told him. I thought a minute, then added, "Nor do I really
care."
"Nachum
-" Moishy started.
But Hillel
interrupted him. Coming up close to me, he said, "I think you did real
good, Nachum. I really do."
"Thanks."
My kid brother's words warmed me in side. I glowed at the compliment.
But it wasn't
the best one I was to receive. My big-business big brothers glared at me, with
the exact same expression in their eyes as they'd had when they scolded Hillel
for giving away first his lemonade and then his money.
"You're
hopeless, Nachum," Mutty muttered. "Really hopeless."
That was the
biggest compliment I ever got.
Buy The Lemonade Lesson and Other Stories by Libby Lazewnik at a special online price at www.targum.com
