My Still Bank

When I was a little girl I have a tube coin bank An enclosed bamboo segment With a slit at the side It was one of the walls Of our little house. I inserted a nickel From time to time The remainder of my school allowance My parents gave me. Sometimes I want to put a dime And I will buy A boiled banana or sweet potato For lunch. Some years later My father worked overseas Our simple abode Was renovated From a bamboo house To a stone house. My coin bank Was hammered and crushed The money within Were scattered all around I cried when I got My nickels and dimes. My mother gifted me A porcelain piggy bank In lieu of the damaged one It came from the finest pottery maker In town With holes in the belly And in between ears. My school allowance increased I put quarters in my new coin bank When it was full I got all the money inside And went straight To the nearest bank. When I finished school My piggy bank Is still fit for use I handed down To my favorite nephew He kept it as the foundation Of a valued trait. Copyright 2018, Rose Marie Juan-Austin, All Rights Reserved