The Small Things


The Small Things

Throughout my life, my parents have always proved to me that material things simply didn’t matter. I have twin older brothers and a younger sister. We grew up in a warm and loving home and while we were not rich, we had everything we could wish for.

When we were children, we would struggle to understand why we didn’t have the most stylish clothes or newest sneakers. This is unfortunately the way of the world, we were not spoiled brats, simply children that were at the beckoned call of modern advertising. Powerhouse brands would all too often advertise the newest toys and games in a way which made them seem accessible to everyone.

While my parents did their utmost to cater to our selfish childish whims, they simply couldn’t keep up with the constant barrage of expensive requests, these games, gadgets and garments were expensive. With four children that only had 7 years between them, a house to pay for with bills that were astronomical and the obvious need to feed us, little money was left for luxuries.

My two brothers would hit the local neighbourhood to earn money, they would do all manner of things, from mowing lawns and washing cars, to collecting groceries. This became a regular income for them, and they would often treat us all to a pizza or takeout food with their hard earned money.

Although we didn’t have all of the modern luxuries that some of our friends were blessed with, we had something that we would all later appreciate far more than a new pair of sneakers. We had a loving family, a family that would always look out for each other. We had been taught that material things in life didn’t matter as long as you had people around you who cared.

A standout memory from our childhood that we all remember is the homemade bread my mom would cook each Saturday morning. The smell would work its way through the whole house, waking us all with a heavenly scent, this fresh bred would be accompanied with crispy bacon, and give us all an amazing Saturday morning treat. It is strange how these small things stay with you and create wonderful memories.

Coming of Age 

When my brothers came to leaving high school and the inevitable fees of college were a real concern, my brothers took a stand, something which has been alien among us all until that point. They decided to get jobs instead of putting our parents into a ridiculous amount of debt.

One started flipping burgers in a local fast food store, and the other, who was always the entrepreneur, started his own car cleaning business. I guess this business started when he was a kid, but he took it to the next level, within a year he had two professional valeting shops employing eight staff, all of which were people from the neighbourhood we grew up in.

Eventually my two brothers started working together, the brand took the state by storm, and by the time my sister was due to go to college, they had saved enough to pay for her whole education. While my parents were over the moon, they undeservedly felt a sensation of guilt, that somehow they had failed because they couldn’t afford a college education for 4 children. While this was completely outrageous, we could all see where these feelings were coming from, they had tried all of our lives to provide, and when it took one of their children to pay, they felt uneasy.

Payback and Thanks 

Ten years had passed since my sister had graduated from college, and we would all often meet to reminisce about our past. We would talk about how lucky we were to be taught valuable life lessons. We were taught to appreciate the little things, the things that weren’t physical. During one of our conversations, we all started talking about our childhood Saturday mornings. We all agreed that it would be wonderful to arrange a recreation.

We decided to take a part of this task each. My brother invited my parents to stay over on a Friday evening, my sister was to make the coffee, my other brother was to be the bacon chef, and the bread was left to me. This was no mean feat, my mom’s bread was amazing, how on earth would I live up to her standards.

I decided that a bread maker was the only way I would be able to come close to her bread. I did a little research and came across a fantastic website called http://www.doughbreadmakers.com/  this site had lots of reviews and guided me towards the perfect bread maker, my bread maker proved to be a very wise choice indeed.

The Perfect Saturday Morning 

The morning came around very quickly, me and my siblings all arrived early in order to recreate that amazing Saturday morning smell we all recognised. The coffee was perfect, the bacon crisp as we all remembered and the bread, even if I do say so myself, was incredible.

The whole experience was amazing. My parents hadn’t realised until that day that we all appreciated everything that they had given us. We had managed to repay a small part of what they gave us, with one of the little things that they gave us as children.

Our Saturday morning activities have become a regular thing, and it is a tradition that has been passed onto all of our kids. Hopefully we can teach them, like our parents taught us, that the small things in life can count for a whole lot more than a new pair of sneakers.


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