Within minutes, firefighters began buying corn, followed by people from nearby businesses, church members, and passing motorists. Josie handled the money while Wyatt carried orders to customers. By 11:25, they had sold forty-five dozen ears. Then I noticed a familiar maroon Mercury Grand Marquis turning onto Main Street. It was Edna’s car.
She parked awkwardly beside the fire station and sat behind the wheel for several moments. Finally, she stepped out, holding her coin purse, and approached our pickup. Looking at Josie, she quietly asked for one dozen ears. My daughter looked at her grandmother and answered calmly, “That’ll be six dollars, Grandma.” She counted the payment, selected twelve beautiful ears, and then added a thirteenth. “It’s a baker’s dozen. That’s what we do for family.” Edna accepted the bag, and tears began running down her face.
THE STORY CONTINUES ON THE NEXT PAGE… 👇👇👇
