One dollar.

That’s all it took for our grandson to have a fabulous time on an errand that would normally be the last thing an 8-year-old boy would want to do – clothes shopping with his big sisters.

Jason was willing to go shopping with us because I told him he might see something he’d like to buy.

He said he’d been saving up money from doing a few jobs around his house. When we were ready to go, Jason held up a small Zip-lock bag and showed me his treasure trove.

He had seven dollars in change and folded up dollar bills in that small plastic bag. We left the house, everyone thinking about what they needed to get that afternoon.

We went in the first store where we waited patiently for the girls to try on a few T-shirts.

“Can I play on your phone while we wait?” Jason politely asked. Of course I handed it over. I knew waiting for sisters to try on clothes wasn’t where this active little boy wanted to be.

For a half hour, Jason sat on the floor, happily playing his game. He walked with us while we meandered along, never asking us to hurry up.

On the way to the mall’s main hallway, Jason spotted a group of massage recliners, the ones people sit on when they’re tired.

Jason, though, was ecstatic. He looked at the tag and saw he could get a massage for one dollar.

“I have money!” he said, pulling out the Zip-lock bag out of his pocket.

I thought it was a waste of money – a three-minute back massage for a dollar. I suggested he wait and see if there was something else he’d rather spend his money on.

He agreed, but I could tell he wasn’t convinced.

Jason looked in the toy store. Even though there were a few things he could buy, he insisted he was going to wait and get a massage before we left the mall.

“Are you sure you don’t want one of these small things near the cash register,” I asked in the toy store.

“No ma’am,” he said, smiling. “I’m gonna get that massage.”

We kept shopping and he was agreeable the whole time, happily waiting for his sisters while they browsed and tried on outfits.

We had lunch, and I forgot about the massage chair. We finished our pizza and stood up.

“Let’s head to the car,” I said. “I’m a little tired.”

The girls agreed, but not Jason. His disappointment was quite evident.

I looked at his face, those big brown eyes so trusting, the very top of the Zip-lock bag peeking out of his pants pocket. He’d been so patient, waiting for his turn, not once complaining.

That’s when I decided – there was no way we were leaving without him getting a massage. We went back the way we came in. When Jason spotted the massage chairs, he ran over and sat in every one.

“I want to be sure I get the most comfortable chair,” he said.

When he found the one he wanted, he carefully took a crumpled dollar bill out of the bag, smoothed it out and slid it into the money slot.

The chair started to vibrate and he laughed and laughed with pure joy.

That afternoon, the girls and I bought clothes.

Jason, however, bought something much more valuable, my husband said.

He bought a joyful experience.

For one crumpled and well-spent dollar.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.