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It was late summer, almost time to go back to school the end of the season and of time at Papa and Nana's home the big old house surrounded by apple trees, a peach tree, grapevines, lilac bushes, and a huge vegetable garden.

I was 11 then, sitting in the sunshine by myself, breathing in the aroma of a small sprig of lilacs that had broken off from the main bush. I don't know why but I took a small stick and dug a little hole, maybe hoping to plant another lilac bush? I stuck the sprig in, but it toppled over. Maybe the hole wasn't deep enough. I took the stick and pushed down hitting something bumpy and hard, maybe rocks. I couldn't push further so I found a bigger stick and tried again. Too hard, maybe lots of rocks, or one really big one. Curiosity had me digging after a third try sticks and bare hands pulling up the fertile soil until I scratched at something that wasn't a rock.

I pulled the small object up, dusted it off, and saw it was a penny a really old, dirty penny. Surprised at my find, I started digging again. Another penny, and another, two more, five more. I stopped and counted 33 pennies, 33 cents!

I looked around. Nobody. Good. I had a plan. I ran to the cellar where Papa kept bags and baskets, and containers for all his fruits and vegetables. I grabbed a small plastic bag, folded it neatly and put it in my back pocket, and then got a tin pail which I filled with water from Papa's well. Back to the lilac bush, and to the pennies.

I dug wider and deeper, maybe a foot down, until I was sure there were no more pennies. The sun was going down, dinner would be soon. I had to hurry. I filled the hole back up quickly, and then scooped up the pennies, 100 to be sure, one dollar. I had counted neat piles of ten pennies to get my total, and then put them in the plastic bag, grabbed the pail of water, the wilted lilac, and a fresh one I gently broke from the bush.

I headed quickly to the edge of Papa's property, and about 100 feet into the forest where Papa had built a bench between two trees years earlier. Nobody went there now; the bench was weathered, splintering, not good for sitting

In a spot, two feet from the bench, where the sun still made its way through the maple and pine canopy above, I dug a deep hole and buried the pennies. Then I made a hole for the two lilac sprigs, the very wilted one and the fresh one, watered them well, and ran all the way back to Papa and Nana's house.

For the next three days, before I would leave for the season, I escaped

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