It perplexed me to say the least starting about the year 2007. I won’t base my experiences completely on that old Edison phonograph, either. How does an antique wind-up phonograph have anything to do with a “pennies from heaven” story? Actually, I won’t limit this to just one phonograph, per se, but namely a Victrola as well.
Knowing my late great grandmother “Tractor” she gave me $100 dollars back in 2000 to save for a rainy day (in future terms). Sounded simple enough. I remembered to send her a thank you card enclosed with a ten page letter as well, but didn’t understand what she meant by “save it for a rainy day” because I was very young back then, shy of twenty-three and thrown out into the real world without any financial sense other than that paying my bills and the rent were first and foremost each and every month.
I never knew how important that money would come in handy for me someday, nor was I ever told of the family story when my great, great grandparents would give my dad, uncle, and aunts money just because. Sometimes my dad would try to sneak off without getting paid a nickel or a dime from my late great, great grandmother, Katy. He related to me that he didn’t shovel their walk in the winter for money, he just did it because liked helping out.
This family story was substantiated through accounts that my great, great grandparents, who immigrated straight from Hungary would often give the grandchildren nickels, dimes, pennies, quarters incase they ever needed the extra change. I didn’t know what to make of this particular family story when I read it in my copy of our family genealogy that was compiled by my dad’s father, my grandpa Ron. Alas, I never got the chance to meet my great, great grandparents, either. I had heard wonderful things about them. My great, great grandfather, Andreas passed away when my dad was just 5 years old. A lot of people that knew my great, great grandfather were saddened by his death due to a massive heart attack. My great, great grandmother Katy, sadly passed away in 1976, a year before I was born.
I would have liked great, great grandmother and great, great grandfather my dad told me years later (and yes, I would have learned Hungarian from them as well).
Well, I thought little of the family story or its origins, until curiously enough, I started finding pennies. At first on the floor at the base of my old wind-up phonographs. In some cases, on top of the machines, too. I placed small bowls on each phonograph in every room of the home. Seldom did the pennies, nickels or dimes appear in the dish, yet in the same places that I had just mentioned. This became so commonplace around the house that I seldom paid much attention. I was just one of the fifteen great, great grandchildren according to my late great grandmother, whom I corresponded with regularly like clock work before she sadly passed away at the age of 92 or 93.
It seemed to be whenever I was ready to run errands I would find the pennies, nickles and dimes either on top of the phonographs or by the base. So maybe I should re-write my title to reflect “pocket change from heaven from my late great, great grandparents,” or something to that effect.
I obtained some prints of my great, great grandparents before they moved to America in 1907. I took those prints to my local wally-world and had an 8×10 copy made. I was so proud to see an extremely old photograph of my great, great grandparents when they were young. They had to work extremely hard to save up the money to sail over to America, (and lost it thrice when the monetary system in Hungary changed due to three different monarchies, I believe).
I could tell they had a good life in America by how they were dressed, right down to the cigar that my great, great grandfather had. I also suspect this because a year later in 1908, they bought a brand new top of the line Victrola talking machine with gold tone plated hardware. It is a gorgeous machine that was deluxe for its day!
Needless to say, the pennies, nickles, and dimes didn’t stop with those machines nor with my ancestor’s photographs, either even long after I moved back home. I view this uncommon kind gesture also like a gift from the Lord, letting me know that my ancestors continue to look down on me making sure that I have some spare change here and there.