Happy Valentines Day!!--The Candy Box, told by Aunt CB

It was just an old cigar box, probably came from Aunt Lil’s store, or maybe Uncle Leon’s. It was important to us though, it was our candy box!

I don’t remember how it started, but Harold, Doris and CB, the younger part of the Taylor kids worked hard at it. “IT” was filling the box with any candy we could lay our hands on, and on Saturday a.m., dividing it among us. We weren’t often given candy, but whatever we had, we shared. Usually we made sure there were eight pieces and when we set the table, under each upside down plate went a piece.

But there was a period of time (three to four years?) when instead, we chucked it right into our cigar box. Probably the idea was born when, on a trip with Mom downtown, we spied a piece or two fallen from the candy counter onto the floor. Candy was not individually bagged in our day, it was heaped in separate areas behind a glass counter and weighed out in quarter or half pound bags as you desired. In the process, some usually fell off the scoop and onto the floor.

That fact probably inspired us to quick as a flash, duck down, grab it up, pocket it and the candy box was richer that week. Dirty floors? Well, we never noticed! Sometimes it fell between the glass sides of the bins, and Harold’s skinny arms were in use here. He could slide one in and usually reach the piece of candy. Of course, sometimes the “boss” of the store caught us, and it was embarrassing but it never stopped us!

Saturday a.m. Harold would fly down the hall from his bed and jump into ours. This was divy-up time! There might be as many as nine or ten pieces of candy to share. If we’d visited Aunt Lil’s store, even more!

Then there was the famous time when there were five pieces there, four small and one lovely Jordon Almond (no, I have no idea where we found it!) Of course, we ALL wanted the almond. Doris was not only persuasive but she was the oldest of us, and she insisted that if she could have it, we could split the other four pieces between us. Reluctantly we agreed, each grabbing our two as she eyed her lovely white almond and bit into it. As we chomped on ours, she let out a “yikes”-and spit hers out, it was a mothball! No, it did not have an odor but was definitely a naphtha mothball. Poor Dottie got fooled!