I dusted off the old scrapbook this evening to show the girls that I was, indeed, once a Girl Scout.
There I am, pigtails and all.
Since I was only eight at the time, I was technically a Brownie, but I did sell 49 boxes of cookies, and I still have the “certificate of merit” to prove it.
Here is a very blurry newspaper photo showing me with two troop-mates. We are tidying the garden at St. Nicholas Episcopal Church, and I look rather sullen, don’t I. (I’m at far left). This amused my children to no end, because I am such a champion of hard work now. It cheered them to see that I haven’t always been so ready to roll up my sleeves and pitch in. Now they have proof I once felt just like they do about chores.
The news clipping accompanying the photo states that “After a family pancake breakfast…troop members enjoyed an overnight stay in the parish hall….The following week was spent delivering Girl Scout cookies and tidying up the garden at the church.”
I remember very little of this. Certainly not the breakfast or the sleepover. But I do remember the photo being taken, and I do remember going door to door with my little order form, selling cookies.
I loved that order form. I was a geeky little kid when it came to forms and organization and stationary anyway – the sort of kid who catalogued my own books and played library. Or secretary. So, to have an order form all my own was heavenly. And then, to have it be a colorful order form – one where each cookie had its own color-coded column….Well, that was bliss.
Imagine my excitement, when Pepper brought home her order form and it looked almost exactly the same as the one I remember using!
There aren’t a lot of things that have remain unchanged from my childhood to hers. She laughs at rotary phones and phonograph records and has never even used a card catalogue at a library…but now we’ve both used the same Girl Scout cookie order form, and I think that’s kind of neat.
(Isn’t it beautiful?)
From the dining room table, trying to justify the ordering of an entire case of Samoas,