I never knew his name, but he was a familiar face. He didn’t live in our village, but he came often by and stayed for a few days. He sharpened tools, knifes and scissors. He was from the South of Italy; his face was dark brown and looked weathered. He wore old clothes; his pants and shoes were old and the knitted, patched up cardigan he wore had seen better days as well.
I never knew his name, he didn’t talk much, but he was a frequent visitor on our farm. He was a knife grinder and made a living traveling from village to village, from city to city. My Grandmother always fed him well and he slept in our barn numerous times. He stayed for a few days and brought our dull looking tools back to life. They always looked shiny and brand-new when he left and all the knives and scissors in our house worked like they had just been bought.
He was traveling around in the area during the summer time and everybody treated him nicely. He made a little bit and money here and there, but he looked like he didn’t have much.
My Grandmother always send him on his way, with homemade sausages, bread and other goodies out of our pantry, and she fed him well during the days when he stayed with us.
When I got older I tried to find jobs during my summer and winter vacations and one year, when I was 17, I worked all winter long at a small bank in the next town. The job was boring; since there was really nothing to do, but it paid a little bit and I could put money into my savings account.
Back then there were no computers and people had to come to the bank to update their saving book. Saving accounts were little booklets, that kept track of the amount saved and they showed the interest that the bank had to pay bank.
Once a year in January, the people came by the bank and stood in line to see how much money their savings had earned during the year.
That day we were busy. I still remember how mature and how important I had felt, after I had just updated my first savings book.
There was a long line of people and they all waited patiently their turn. I always felt uneasy when I recognized a person’s face, it felt like I was snooping into their private life. Nobody knew that I had 5000 shillings (Austrian money back then round about $250) saved up and so it just didn’t feel right to know their money secrets. I kept my head down and I tried not to look into people’s faces, just did my job and added a few shilling here and there to their life savings.
All of a sudden I opened a savings book and the amount of money I saw written down took my breath away. It showed over 800,000 Austrian Shillings (round about $40,000 back then).
The savings book looked old and it hadn’t been kept very well , it was creased and crinkly.
My curiosity got the best of me and I looked up and tried to find out who the owner was. I added the interest amount and called the name of the person, because I wanted to know who it belonged to. I was holding the saving book in my hand and waited for the person to come forward. I couldn’t believe my eyes when the old knife grinder stepped forward.
He wore the same old clothes and the some old shoes. He smiled at me, nodded his head and took his savings account.
I couldn’t believe it; the old man who slept every year in our barn and sharpened our tools had so much money saved up. The guy that looked like a homeless person could have had the nicest clothes and the biggest car.
I wanted to tell everybody about it, but decided not to, it just didn’t feel right.
A few months later he came by our farm -like he did every year- and he greeted me the same way he always did. We looked in each other’s eyes and he smiled, he recognized me.
He nodded his head and he went to work.
I wasn’t sure if this was fact or fiction when I read it but I liked it anyway. I see from the comments it really happened. He was obviously very happy with his work and lifestyle. An enviable situation. 🙂
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I think many of his generation worked hard and put money on the side. I know that we weren’t as poor as my Grandmother made me believe we were 🙂
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What a beautiful, tender memoir, Bridget. Do you know what ever happened to him?
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No I don’t know what happened to him. My Grandmother passed away when I was 18 and I moved away.
I hope he got what he saved for.
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It would make a good fictional story (basing the end on what you might guess he was saving for). I found him fascinating.
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I remember him so well. I think he was younger than I made him sound, because everybody over 25 seemed to be really old back then, when I was just a child.
I think the saved his money to move back to the South of Italy, where he came from. I want to believe he retired, bought a small little house at the beach and enjoyed the rest of his days sitting on his porch, looking over the ocean.
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I moved to the U.S. more than 30 years ago after I fell in love with my husband, but I grew up in Sued Tirol and remember my childhood well.
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I enjoyed the visuals of that write. The “knife grinder” really gives you a mental image!
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Thank you Jason
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you just never know what people have, what they value, how thy choose to spend their money and live. What an interesting story. You reminded me of the thrill of making deposits into my first savings account and seeing the interest calculated and the balance grow- I saved up for a car and finally was able to buy one when I was 20. 🙂
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I felt the same way, I too was saving my money for a car. Well, let me rephrase that, it wasn’t really a car it was more like a museum piece on wheels.
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Just shows you that living within one’s means has its rewards. I hope he left his money to a good cause.
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I don’t know, but I am sure he saved the money for a reason.
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How interesting! He appeared to be the poorest of all and was the richest of all.
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An interesting and mysterious story. Did he have something to hide, or was he just sly. Perhaps he was leading a double life, perhaps he was a spy. I bet he had an interesting life story to tell.
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I wish I would know. I don’t even know if he had kids or what place he called home. He was an honest guy and a hard worker.
I think many of the people who survived WWII were very careful with money after the war.
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More than interesting entry…
It raises many questions , indeed , which are difficult to be answered , but I love this post because it talks about days gone by, country habits , morale and history…
Brava Bridget!
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Why on Earth wasn’t he enjoying some of his hard earned money? He probably died without spending a cent of it 😯
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I have no idea what happened to his money. He was born during WWII when people in Italy and Austria lost everything they had. I bet that had a lot to do with it.
I hope he left it to someone who made good use of it.
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