The Minnesota Farm Woman

In northern Minnesota during my growing-up years, a sure sign of spring was when all the neighborhood kids played marbles. We played in the typical Minnesota spring climate, shooting marbles into gigantic mud puddles and snowbanks. There wasn’t a specific game, we just aimed our marble at another kid’s, and if we hit it, won their marble. That was only if we played “for keeps” or “for keepers”, though. Otherwise it was just for fun. We had cat’s eyes, shooters, steelies, puries, commies, and others in a whole myriad of colors and sizes, carried in fringed leather bags bought from Ott’s Drug Store or sewn by our mothers. The first house that my parents bought in the early 1960’s had a basement full of stuff, including a gallon pickle jug full of old marbles. I could fill my bag whenever I needed to, and I would often grab a handful. It was like reaching into a jar of colorful candy in all colors and flavors. My favorites were the marbles that had animal figurines inside the spheres of glass. There were only a few of those, and I wish I knew what happened to them, but I never took the chance of losing them in a game. When summer arrived, my best friend and I were too busy catching frogs and fish to play marbles, but we often carried a homemade slingshot in our back pockets and instead of using pebbles, we often used marbles. We were only allowed to use those slingshots when we went to the woods, because there were just way too many windows in town. Through the eyes and thoughts of a child, that big jar of marbles should have lasted just about forever and a day, but by the time I was in high school, they were gone. I didn’t feel any sense of loss until years later, when we cleaned out our parents’ house and I found a few, tucked into the back of the junk drawer. Over the years, I have picked up a handful here and there at estate sales, and now I have three small jars of them on my dresser. Looking at them always brings back the memories of Minnesota springtimes and childhood. I have often wondered how much that big jar full of old marbles would be valued at today. It would probably be worth quite a bit of money, but even if it was, I know for certain that it is worth far more than that in memories.