Grandma's Gift

The Gift of Four Bits.

Almost everyone my age, and there are less and less of us each day, knows that two bits is twenty-five cents and that four bits is fifty cents. This is the story of how my grandmother’s gift of a fifty-cent piece has lasted a lifetime and has profited me much over the years.

On my eleventh birthday, I visited my grandmother Perretta at her grocery store. Grandma invited me into the kitchen and sat me down with my favorite treat; a “bird in the nest”, a cupcake with the top removed and the center dug out and then filled with a delicious white cream. The cut out top was split vertically and nestled on the cream filling in the shape of a “v”. It did look like a bird in the nest, and I was as much in love with the name as the pastry. Grandma wished me a happy birthday and then presented me with a shiny new fifty-cent piece.

This was big money. Quarters, I had held in my hand before and had been able to exchange them for a ticket to the local movie theatre and two candy bars at the snack counter. Consider that plump freshly made bagels were available at Gold Medal bakery at three for a dime; a cup of coffee was a nickel and a slice of pie ten cents and you’ll understand what that fifty cent piece represented. The shining four bits in my hand opened up a world of pleasurable possibilities. I was beaming when I said thanks and good-by to grandma. I skipped out of the store and proceeded … where? What was I going to do with this bonanza? Then the devil hopped on to my shoulder and whispered one word into my ear. “Rudy’s”, he said, “Rudy’s”. It came upon me from the darkness like a train in the night, pitch-blackness, a flash of light and then a thunderous roar, “Rudy’s”

Rudy’s was a double temptation. Its location put it on the other side of Fortieth Street, which meant that I had to cross a very busy avenue with two sets of trolley tracks just to get there. While my folks did not exactly forbid me from crossing Fortieth, they were wise enough to know that it became a neighborhood right of passage for children my age; they let me know that they frowned upon it. I needed good cause to cross those trolley tracks. The second temptation involved the forbidden fruits of the store itself.


Rudy welcomed the neighborhood kids into his store with the same smile that the spider reserved for the fly. He sold loose cigarettes at three cents each, or four for a dime, more than doubling his money on a pack. Most of his cigarette clientele consisted of junior and senior high school kids. Adults had enough money to buy a full pack if they wanted one.

The counter at the front of his store was laden with glass jars filled with cheap candy. The back room was dark and housed several pinball machines and the only slot machine that I had ever seen. I was fascinated with the slot machine. You put money in it and it gave you nothing, but every so often, at least I had heard tales, your nickel returned twenty-five or even fifty cents while bells rang and lights blinked on and off. I entered the store and slunk up to the counter and with sweaty palm gave the fifty-cent piece to Rudy and asked him for a quarter and five nickels. I’ll never spend that quarter here I said to myself as I pocketed it and then drew slowly towards the slot machine. I stood in front of it for a few moments and then reached into my pocket, pulled out a five cent piece, dropped it into the slot, pulled the lever and stood for a breathless moment watching the wheels spin and come to a stop showing two of one figure and one of another. It took my nickel and gave back nothing. I tried again and a third time and a fourth and a fifth. The slot machine just blinked silently at me after each attempt. Twenty-five cents were gone and I had nothing for it. I was defeated, but wait, I still had another quarter. I can do it. I ran to the front counter and was greeted by a smiling Rudy who had five nickels waiting for me. I went back to my silent adversary and gave it another nickel and another until I was penniless. And then it hit me, and hit me hard. Grandma had given me that money as a prize and I turned it over to Rudy and got nothing in exchange. I was disgraced. I had dishonored my grandmother and in a fit of passion had squandered the gift of silver. I left the store, head down and tail between my legs. I swore never to do anything like it again.

To this day I do not gamble. I never wager. Any time I try, that sinking feeling returns and I remember how I had disgraced my grandmother’s wonderful gift. Thanks grandma for the love and the lesson. Rudy will never get another nickel out of me