1 For as long as I could remember, the ll cottago on amal Castro Street had been home. The familiar background was there; Mama, Papa, my only brother, Nels. There was sister Christine, oloaest to mo in age, yet ever seeret withdrawn and the littlest aiate, Dagmar. 2 There, too, came the Aunts. Mama's lour inters. Aunt Jonny, who was the uldest and the bassicst: Aunt Sigrid; Aunt Marta, and our maiden aunt, Trina. 3 The Aunts' old bachelor ance, my Great-unale chrie the "black Norwegian eame with his great impatience, his shouting end stamping. And brought myEtery and excitement to our humdrum days. But the firs awareness was of Mama 5 remember thnt every Saturday night Mama would sit down by the serubbed kitchen table and with much wrinkling of usually placid bruwe connt out the money Papa had bi home in the little envelope. 6 There would be various stacks. 7 "For the landlord," Mama would say, piling up the big silver pieces. 8 "For the grocer." Another group of eoine. 9 "For Katrin's Bboes to be hals soled." And Mama would count out the little silver. 10 "Teacher says thia week I'll need a notebook That would be Christine or Nels 11 Mama would silemnly detach a nickel or a dime nnd set it aside. Z2 we would watch the diminishing interest, 13 At lasi, Papa would ask, "ls all?" 13 And when Mama nodded, we could relax a little and reach for Euhuolbooks and hameworlt. For Mama would lonk up then and good," she'd murmur. "We do not have to go to the Bank." 15 It was a wonderful thing, that Bank Aocount of Mama's. We were all su proud of it. It gave us such a warm, secure feeling. No ane else we knew had money in a big bank downtown.