This was one of Dad’s stories that made me when I was small – probably made my brothers and my sister too:
Dad said: “We lived in North Carlton, where all the Jews lived. We were all poor. Even after the Depression, when we weren’t so poor we never forgot the poor times.
“My Father – your Papa – told us a story about King and Godfree. Papa went there once in, the hard times, to buy food.
The grocer said: What can I get you, Mr. Goldenberg?
Three pounds of potatoes, please Mr. King.
A pound of flour.
The grocer weighed the spuds and the flour.
What else, Mr. Goldenberg?
That’s all. Nothing else thanks.
That’s not enough, Mr.Goldenberg.
What do you mean?
You’ve got three sons, growing boys. They need milk, eggs.
No thanks Mr. King.
The grocer left the counter for a moment. He came back and placed a dozen eggs and a quart of milk on the counter.
Papa shook his head. No Mr. King, I won’t take those. I’ll take what I can pay for.
You take them now Mr. Goldenberg. You’ll pay for them when you can.
Papa never forgot that. From that day he always shopped at King and Godfree.”