Finish the story begins with: “Hey boys, how ’bout y’all makin’ yer Ma some wind chimes?”
Otis looked mournfully at his mother
She had a way of making the most from dire situations.
They were down to their last penny and were hoping for a miracle to get them out of their current poverty.
Sunday was the village market and they always liked to hire a space and sell whatever their hands could make.
If it was pretend wind chimes, Otis would give it a try. He had some string and left over wood cuts from his brother’s carpentry shop.
It was a simple task, knock holes in the cans, his mum made some crude but simple labels, a lick of paint on the timber and presto, wind chimes. Otis would be happy if he sold a few.
The following Sunday afternoon they arrived home with no wind chimes and orders for twenty more. Otis took in a breath thinking of another week of beans for supper.