I shouted to my daughter who was busy preparing the decorations and the entire house for the birthday event.
"They are just right there in the secret drawer of the kitchen table where you are finishing the cake."
She responded loud enough for me to hear.
I searched for the candles and found them. Six different colored candles were inside the drawer. I smiled to myself with my daughter's sweet idea, though I did not understand why.
There were yellow, blue, red, pink, green and violet. They were some of my most favorite colors. So I started to place them on the chocolate cake.
As the candles took their places on the cake, different moments have crossed my mind. I let them come in freely as they would not affect me anymore since they were of the past.
In my first ten years of life, I had come to know about money. I was given play money as a birthday gift from my parents.
Playing with those fake paper money was really fun in my childhood. With my brothers and sisters, we were given a lot of them to play with.
The use and purpose of them were explained to us, without emphasizing they were fake. We were told that with money you could have everything that you want.
"That is great!"
Those were my words when my babysitter explained them for the first time.
I was six years old then and believe everything I was told, most of them coming from my own designated babysitter as my parents were just always busy, "looking for money" as my sweet old lady nanny used to say.
Then one day, I heard my parents shouting so loud at each other. It was already midnight. They woke me up.
I went out of my room and walked some steps to theirs. Their bedroom door was a little bit opened and they did not realize I was there outside standing in my pyjamas, scrubbing my eyes.
"You should not have given them the money, because they don't know how to pay."
My mother was shouting to my father.
"What are you talking about? They are relatives and they need money!"
The voice of my father was even louder when he responded. And the more it woke me up.
"Money! They need money!"
I said those words to myself.
My mind revealed to me the reason for their rare fighting. I have never heard them shouting out loud to each other. In front of me and my other two sisters and two brothers, they have always been civilized.
I ran back to my room and looked for the box of fake paper money I have collected. I have never ever seen what true money was. Whatever I needed, I had them and it had been my nanny who took care of everything. I just have to ask.
I bursted straight into my parent's room and handed them my box of money. They were so surprised and open-mouthed.
"Here Mom! Here Dad! You don't have to fight! I have saved these money. You can use them. Have them back!"
With rounded eyes and big smiles, I was offering them my help.
They stopped, looked at each other and at the same time, their stressed shoulders suddenly fell.
My father looked the other way, through a window and my mother looked at me with a sad look but with sweet smiles. She came to hug me while nodding a bit and taking the money box from my hands.
"Thank you sweetheart. I am sorry we woke you up."
Without more words, she looked at my father who was then standing behind me as he walked away from near the window.
He lifted me up in his arms. I felt happy, believing I have helped them to solve their problems. He carried me back to my bedroom.
As Dad tucked me under the bed sheets, he kissed my forehead and smiled.
"Good night sweetheart. I am sorry we woke you up."
Then he left turning off the light and closing the door.
That was all. The very first moment I understand the effect of money on people's lives.
To that memory, I put the color red for the love of my parents.
To be continued...
(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar