“Ugh, Black Friday, I’d trade almost anything not to be shopping today,” I said to Keith. We were driving home from Thanksgiving with family in northern Virginia and backed up in traffic which was exiting for a large local shopping mall. 

Trade is about buying and selling, an exchange; it can also be a profession, a skilled job.

Trade in Biblical times

You can settle among us; the land is open to you. Live in it, trade in it, and acquire property in it.” Genesis 34:10 NIV

…and because he was of the same trade he stayed with them and worked, for they were tentmakers by trade. Acts 18:3 ESV

Trade and traders are mentioned several times in scripture. Work in a trade, such as Paul’s tent-making, and work as a trader or merchant were honorable professions as long as they behaved honestly, and there was agreement.

Trade as an exchange declined

Two decades or so ago, my mother told me a story about one particular afternoon meeting of the neighborhood book club, which she had founded. During their active child-raising years in the 50s and 60s, the ladies took turns choosing a book and hosting the monthly meetings. When it was Mother’s turn, she made a special dessert—an ambrosia, pie, cake or whipped cream confection—set up the 30-cup coffee maker then expanded our dining room table with the extra leaves. Mother always used her fine china for these occasions, placing the matching sugar and creamer on the Lazy Susan in the center of the table.

The Round Hill Book Club functioned as an intellectual discussion group and social gathering, the emphasis on the latter as time passed. Although the women dressed like Donna Reed in her TV Show, they made no secret of the fact that their lives were anything but perfect. Over coffee and dessert, they shared their problems with honest intimacy.

One afternoon, one of the ladies said, “Why don’t each of us put our trials and tribulations on the Lazy Susan. We’ll spin it around and take whosever set of troubles we want.”

“We talked about it for a while,” Mother said when telling me this story. We were sitting at that same dining room table. “And we all decided we’d end up claiming our own.” No trade, no exchange.

The epilogue to this story follows, along with one of the last pictures of the book club ladies. Mother is second from the left.

Trade as an exchange accepted

“When I told the book club that I was going back to work, they hit the roof,” Mother said as her hands leaped into the air. “Then one-by-one, the women all went back to work. It was the best thing I ever did. I would have wasted those years.” This conversation happened nine years ago. 

“I remember you weren’t happy working for the guy in the resource room when you went back to work,” I said.

“No, I wasn’t, but that’s why I went back to school.”

“You were in college the same time I was. What was it like being a college student again?”

“It was ok, except for that terrible math class. Your father and sister talked me into it. They said they’d help me but even they couldn’t figure out what the heck was going on in that class.” Mother giggled. “I sat next to this fellow, and I used to pinch him.” 

“You pinched him?” I leaned forward.

“Yes, when he started to fall asleep.”

“Did he mind your pinching?”

“Oh no, he asked me to pinch him. He bought me a cup of coffee on break as thanks.”

“Why was he falling asleep?”

“He worked the night shift and like me was finishing his degree so he could be a full-fledged teacher.”

“Did you pass the class?”

“Yup, we both did, I don’t know how.”

“I guess it took a lot of pinching and several cups of coffee.”

“It sure did,” she said.

A good trade.

Linkup with Five Minute Friday: https://fiveminutefriday.com/2024/11/28/fmf-writing-prompt-link-up-trade/