{"id":960,"date":"2017-12-22T00:07:44","date_gmt":"2017-12-22T07:07:44","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/clearwaterpress.com\/byline\/?p=960"},"modified":"2019-03-06T12:27:02","modified_gmt":"2019-03-06T19:27:02","slug":"little-dollars-christmas-journey","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/clearwaterpress.com\/byline\/little-dollars-christmas-journey\/","title":{"rendered":"The Little Dollar&#8217;s Christmas Journey"},"content":{"rendered":"<div class=\"wpb-content-wrapper\">[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]\n<h3>Episode 11 \u2022<\/h3>\n<h1>The Little Dollar&#8217;s Christmas Journey<\/h1>\n<p>\u2022&nbsp;<em>The coupon looked for all the world like a dollar bill, except that it was so small that a baby\u2019s hand could easily cover it.<\/em><\/p>\n<pre><div class=\"powerpress_player\" id=\"powerpress_player_9785\"><audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-960-1\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"http:\/\/traffic.libsyn.com\/byline\/Byline011.mp3?_=1\" \/><a href=\"http:\/\/traffic.libsyn.com\/byline\/Byline011.mp3\">http:\/\/traffic.libsyn.com\/byline\/Byline011.mp3<\/a><\/audio><\/div><p class=\"powerpress_links powerpress_links_mp3\" style=\"margin-bottom: 1px !important;\">Podcast: <a href=\"http:\/\/traffic.libsyn.com\/byline\/Byline011.mp3\" class=\"powerpress_link_pinw\" target=\"_blank\" title=\"Play in new window\" onclick=\"return powerpress_pinw('https:\/\/clearwaterpress.com\/byline\/?powerpress_pinw=960-podcast');\" rel=\"nofollow\">Play in new window<\/a> | <a href=\"http:\/\/traffic.libsyn.com\/byline\/Byline011.mp3\" class=\"powerpress_link_d\" title=\"Download\" rel=\"nofollow\" download=\"Byline011.mp3\">Download<\/a><\/p><p class=\"powerpress_links powerpress_subscribe_links\">Subscribe: <a href=\"https:\/\/itunes.apple.com\/us\/podcast\/byline-old-news-is-good-news\/id1280440129?mt=2&amp;ls=1#episodeGuid=http%3A%2F%2Fclearwaterpress.com%2Fbyline%2F%3Fp%3D960\" class=\"powerpress_link_subscribe powerpress_link_subscribe_itunes\" target=\"_blank\" title=\"Subscribe on Apple Podcasts\" rel=\"nofollow\">Apple Podcasts<\/a> | <a href=\"https:\/\/subscribebyemail.com\/clearwaterpress.com\/byline\/feed\/podcast\/\" class=\"powerpress_link_subscribe powerpress_link_subscribe_email\" target=\"_blank\" title=\"Subscribe by Email\" rel=\"nofollow\">Email<\/a> | <a href=\"https:\/\/tunein.com\/radio\/Byline-Old-News-Is-Good-News-p1030588\/\" class=\"powerpress_link_subscribe powerpress_link_subscribe_tunein\" target=\"_blank\" title=\"Subscribe on TuneIn\" rel=\"nofollow\">TuneIn<\/a> | <a href=\"https:\/\/clearwaterpress.com\/byline\/feed\/podcast\/\" class=\"powerpress_link_subscribe powerpress_link_subscribe_rss\" target=\"_blank\" title=\"Subscribe via RSS\" rel=\"nofollow\">RSS<\/a><\/p><\/pre>\n<div style=\"height: 15px; clear:both;\"><\/div>\n<p><img fetchpriority=\"high\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-855\" src=\"https:\/\/clearwaterpress.com\/byline\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2017\/09\/Extra-Extra-newsie-horizontal.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"900\" height=\"115\" srcset=\"https:\/\/clearwaterpress.com\/byline\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2017\/09\/Extra-Extra-newsie-horizontal.jpg 900w, https:\/\/clearwaterpress.com\/byline\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2017\/09\/Extra-Extra-newsie-horizontal-300x38.jpg 300w, https:\/\/clearwaterpress.com\/byline\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2017\/09\/Extra-Extra-newsie-horizontal-768x98.jpg 768w, https:\/\/clearwaterpress.com\/byline\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2017\/09\/Extra-Extra-newsie-horizontal-800x102.jpg 800w, https:\/\/clearwaterpress.com\/byline\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/4\/2017\/09\/Extra-Extra-newsie-horizontal-567x72.jpg 567w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 900px) 100vw, 900px\" \/><\/p>\n<p>SHOW NOTES ____________<\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 18pt\">The Little Dollar&#8217;s Christmas Journey<\/span><br \/>\n<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"font-size: 14pt\">By Jacob Riis<\/span><br \/>\n<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>\u201cIT is too bad,\u201d said Mrs. Lee, and she put down the magazine in which she had been reading of the poor children in the tenements of the great city that know little of Christmas joys; \u201cno Christmas tree! One of them shall have one, at any rate. I think this will buy it, and it is so handy to send. Nobody would know that there was money in the letter.\u201d And she inclosed a coupon in a letter to a professor, a friend in the city, who, she knew, would have no trouble in finding the child, and had it mailed at once. Mrs. Lee was a widow whose not too great income was derived from the interest on some four-per-cent government bonds which represented the savings of her husband\u2019s life of toil, that was none the less hard because it was spent in a counting-room and not with shovel and spade. The coupon looked for all the world like a dollar bill, except that it was so small that a baby\u2019s hand could easily cover it. The United States, the printing on it said, would pay on demand to the bearer one dollar; and there was a number on it, just as on a full-grown dollar, that was the number of the bond from which it had been cut.<\/p>\n<p>The letter traveled all night, and was tossed and sorted and bunched at the end of its journey in the great gray beehive that never sleeps, day or night, and where half the tears and joys of the land, including this account of the little dollar, are checked off unceasingly as first-class matter or second or third, as the case may be.<\/p>\n<p>In the morning it was laid, none the worse for its journey, at the professor\u2019s breakfast-plate. The professor was a kindly man, and he smiled as he read it. \u201cTo procure one small Christmas tree for a poor tenement,\u201d was its errand.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLittle dollar,\u201d he said, \u201cI think I know where you are needed.\u201d And he made a note in his book. There were other notes there that made him smile again as he saw them. They had names set opposite them. One about a Noah\u2019s ark was marked \u201cVivi.\u201d That was the baby; and there was one about a doll\u2019s carriage that had the words \u201cKatie, sure,\u201d set over against it. The professor eyed the list in mock dismay.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow ever will I do it?\u201d he sighed, as he put on his hat.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, you will have to get Santa Claus to help you, John,\u201d said his wife, buttoning his greatcoat about him. \u201cAnd, mercy! the duckses\u2019 babies! don\u2019t forget them, whatever you do. The baby has been talking about nothing else since he saw them at the store, the old duck and the two ducklings on wheels. You know them, John?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>But the professor was gone, repeating to himself as he went down the garden walk: \u201cThe duckses\u2019 babies, indeed!\u201d He chuckled as he said it, why I cannot tell. He was very particular about his grammar, was the professor, ordinarily. Perhaps it was because it was Christmas eve.<\/p>\n<p>Down-town went the professor; but instead of going with the crowd that was setting toward Santa Claus\u2019s headquarters, in the big Broadway store, he turned off into a quieter street, leading west. It took him to a narrow thoroughfare, with five-story tenements frowning on either side, where the people he met were not so well dressed as those he had left behind, and did not seem to be in such a hurry of joyful anticipation of the holiday. Into one of the tenements he went, and, groping his way through a pitch-dark hall, came to a door \u2019way back, the last one to the left, at which he knocked. An expectant voice said, \u201cCome in,\u201d and the professor pushed open the door.<\/p>\n<p>The room was very small, very stuffy, and very dark, so dark that a smoking kerosene-lamp that burned on a table next the stove hardly lighted it at all, though it was broad day. A big, unshaven man, who sat on the bed, rose when he saw the visitor, and stood uncomfortably shifting his feet and avoiding the professor\u2019s eye. The latter\u2019s glance was serious, though not unkind, as he asked the woman with the baby if he had found no work yet.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d she said, anxiously coming to the rescue, \u201cnot yet; he was waitin\u2019 for a recommend.\u201d But Johnnie had earned two dollars running errands, and, now there was a big fall of snow, his father might get a job of shoveling. The woman\u2019s face was worried, yet there was a cheerful note in her voice that somehow made the place seem less discouraging than it was. The baby she nursed was not much larger than a middle-sized doll. Its little face looked thin and wan. It had been very sick, she explained, but the doctor said it was mending now. That was good, said the professor, and patted one of the bigger children on the head.<\/p>\n<p>There were six of them, of all sizes, from Johnnie, who could run errands, down. They were busy fixing up a Christmas tree that half filled the room, though it was of the very smallest. Yes, it was a real Christmas tree, left over from the Sunday-school stock, and it was dressed up at that. Pictures from the colored supplement of a Sunday newspaper hung and stood on every branch, and three pieces of colored glass, suspended on threads that shone in the smoky lamplight, lent color and real beauty to the show. The children were greatly tickled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJohn put it up,\u201d said the mother, by way of explanation, as the professor eyed it approvingly. \u201cThere ain\u2019t nothing to eat on it. If there was, it wouldn\u2019t be there a minute. The childer be always a-searchin\u2019 in it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut there must be, or else it isn\u2019t a real Christmas tree,\u201d said the professor, and brought out the little dollar. \u201cThis is a dollar which a friend gave me for the children\u2019s Christmas, and she sends her love with it. Now, you buy them some things and a few candles, Mrs. Ferguson, and then a good supper for the rest of the family. Good night, and a Merry Christmas to you. I think myself the baby is getting better.\u201d It had just opened its eyes and laughed at the tree.<\/p>\n<p>The professor was not very far on his way toward keeping his appointment with Santa Claus before Mrs. Ferguson was at the grocery laying in her dinner. A dollar goes a long way when it is the only one in the house; and when she had everything, including two cents\u2019 worth of flitter-gold, four apples, and five candles for the tree, the grocer footed up her bill on the bag that held her potatoes\u2014ninety-eight cents. Mrs. Ferguson gave him the little dollar.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s this?\u201d said the grocer, his fat smile turning cold as he laid a restraining hand on the full basket. \u201cThat ain\u2019t no good.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s a dollar, ain\u2019t it?\u201d said the woman, in alarm. \u201cIt\u2019s all right. I know the man that give it to me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt ain\u2019t all right in this store,\u201d said the grocer, sternly. \u201cPut them things back. I want none o\u2019 that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The woman\u2019s eyes filled with tears as she slowly took the lid off the basket and lifted out the precious bag of potatoes. They were waiting for that dinner at home. The children were even then camping on the door-step to take her in to the tree in triumph. And now\u2014<\/p>\n<p>For the second time a restraining hand was laid upon her basket; but this time it was not the grocer\u2019s. A gentleman who had come in to order a Christmas turkey had overheard the conversation, and had seen the strange bill.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt is all right,\u201d he said to the grocer. \u201cGive it to me. Here is a dollar bill for it of the kind you know. If all your groceries were as honest as this bill, Mr. Schmidt, it would be a pleasure to trade with you. Don\u2019t be afraid to trust Uncle Sam where you see his promise to pay.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The gentleman held the door open for Mrs. Ferguson, and heard the shout of the delegation awaiting her on the stoop as he went down the street.<br \/>\n\u201cI wonder where that came from, now,\u201d he mused. \u201cCoupons in Bedford street! I suppose somebody sent it to the woman for a Christmas gift. Hello! Here are old Thomas and Snowflake. I wonder if it wouldn\u2019t surprise her old stomach if I gave her a Christmas gift of oats. If only the shock doesn\u2019t kill her! Thomas! Oh, Thomas!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The old man thus hailed stopped and awaited the gentleman\u2019s coming. He was a cartman who did odd jobs through the ward, thus picking up a living for himself and the white horse, which the boys had dubbed Snowflake in a spirit of fun. They were a well-matched old pair, Thomas and his horse. One was not more decrepit than the other. There was a tradition along the docks, where Thomas found a job now and then, and Snowflake an occasional straw to lunch on, that they were of an age, but this was denied by Thomas.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSee here,\u201d said the gentleman, as he caught up with them; \u201cI want Snowflake to keep Christmas, Thomas. Take this and buy him a bag of oats. And give it to him carefully, do you hear?\u2014not all at once, Thomas. He isn\u2019t used to it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGee whizz!\u201d said the old man, rubbing his eyes with his cap, as his friend passed out of sight, \u201coats fer Christmas! G\u2019lang, Snowflake; yer in luck.\u201d<br \/>\nThe feed-man put on his spectacles and looked Thomas over at the strange order. Then he scanned the little dollar, first on one side, then on the other.<br \/>\n\u201cNever seed one like him,\u201d he said. \u201c\u2019Pears to me he is mighty short. Wait till I send round to the hockshop. He\u2019ll know, if anybody.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The man at the pawnshop did not need a second look. \u201cWhy, of course,\u201d he said, and handed a dollar bill over the counter. \u201cOld Thomas, did you say? Well, I am blamed if the old man ain\u2019t got a stocking after all. They\u2019re a sly pair, he and Snowflake.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Business was brisk that day at the pawnshop. The door-bell tinkled early and late, and the stock on the shelves grew. Bundle was added to bundle. It had been a hard winter so far. Among the callers in the early afternoon was a young girl in a gingham dress and without other covering, who stood timidly at the counter and asked for three dollars on a watch, a keepsake evidently, which she was loath to part with. Perhaps it was the last glimpse of brighter days. The pawnbroker was doubtful; it was not worth so much. She pleaded hard, while he compared the number of the movement with a list sent in from Police Headquarters.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTwo,\u201d he said decisively at last, snapping the case shut\u2014\u201ctwo or nothing.\u201d The girl handed over the watch with a troubled sigh. He made out a ticket and gave it to her with a handful of silver change.<\/p>\n<p>Was it the sigh and her evident distress, or was it the little dollar? As she turned to go, he called her back: \u201cHere, it is Christmas!\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019ll run the risk.\u201d And he added the coupon to the little heap.<\/p>\n<p>The girl looked at it and at him questioningly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt is all right,\u201d he said; \u201cyou can take it; I\u2019m running short of change. Bring it back if they won\u2019t take it. I\u2019m good for it.\u201d Uncle Sam had achieved a backer.<\/p>\n<p>In Grand street the holiday crowds jammed every store in their eager hunt for bargains. In one of them, at the knit-goods counter, stood the girl from the pawnshop, picking out a thick, warm shawl. She hesitated between a gray and a maroon-colored one, and held them up to the light.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFor you?\u201d asked the salesgirl, thinking to aid her. She glanced at her thin dress and shivering form as she said it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d said the girl; \u201cfor mother; she is poorly and needs it.\u201d She chose the gray, and gave the salesgirl her handful of money.<\/p>\n<p>The girl gave back the coupon. \u201cThey don\u2019t go,\u201d she said; \u201cgive me another, please.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut I haven\u2019t got another,\u201d said the girl, looking apprehensively at the shawl. \u201cThe\u2014Mr. Feeney said it was all right. Take it to the desk, please, and ask.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The salesgirl took the bill and the shawl, and went to the desk. She came back, almost immediately, with the storekeeper, who looked sharply at the customer and noted the number of the coupon.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt is all right,\u201d he said, satisfied apparently by the inspection; \u201ca little unusual, only. We don\u2019t see many of them. Can I help you, miss?\u201d And he attended her to the door.<\/p>\n<p>In the street there was even more of a Christmas show going on than in the stores. Peddlers of toys, of mottos, of candles, and of knickknacks of every description stood in rows along the curb, and were driving a lively trade. Their push-carts were decorated with fir-branches\u2014even whole Christmas trees. One held a whole cargo of Santa Clauses in a bower of green, each one with a cedar-bush in his folded arms, as a soldier carries his gun.<\/p>\n<p>The lights were blazing out in the stores, and the hucksters\u2019 torches were flaring at the corners. There was Christmas in the very air and Christmas in the storekeeper\u2019s till. It had been a very busy day. He thought of it with a satisfied nod as he stood a moment breathing the brisk air of the winter day, absently fingering the coupon the girl had paid for the shawl. A thin voice at his elbow said: \u201cMerry Christmas, Mr. Stein! Here\u2019s yer paper.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>It was the newsboy who left the evening papers at the door every night. The storekeeper knew him, and something about the struggle they had at home to keep the roof over their heads. Mike was a kind of prot\u00e9g\u00e9 of his. He had helped to get him his route.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWait a bit, Mike,\u201d he said. \u201cYou\u2019ll be wanting your Christmas from me. Here\u2019s a dollar. It\u2019s just like yourself: it is small, but it is all right. You take it home and have a good time.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Was it the message with which it had been sent forth from far away in the country, or what was it? Whatever it was, it was just impossible for the little dollar to lie still in the pocket while there was want to be relieved, mouths to be filled, or Christmas lights to be lit. It just couldn\u2019t, and it didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n<p>Mike stopped around the corner of Allen street, and gave three whoops expressive of his approval of Mr. Stein; having done which, he sidled up to the first lighted window out of range to examine his gift. His enthusiasm changed to open-mouthed astonishment as he saw the little dollar. His jaw fell. Mike was not much of a scholar, and could not make out the inscription on the coupon; but he had heard of shin-plasters as something they \u201chad in the war,\u201d and he took this to be some sort of a ten-cent piece. The policeman on the block might tell. Just now he and Mike were hunk. They had made up a little difference they\u2019d had, and if any one would know, the cop surely would. And off he went in search of him.<\/p>\n<p>Mr. McCarthy pulled off his gloves, put his club under his arm, and studied the little dollar with contracted brow. He shook his head as he handed it back, and rendered the opinion that it was \u201csome dom swindle that\u2019s ag\u2019in\u2019 the law.\u201d He advised Mike to take it back to Mr. Stein, and added, as he prodded him in an entirely friendly manner in the ribs with his locust, that if it had been the week before he might have \u201crun him in\u201d for having the thing in his possession. As it happened, Mr. Stein was busy and not to be seen, and Mike went home between hope and fear, with his doubtful prize.<\/p>\n<p>There was a crowd at the door of the tenement, and Mike saw, before he had reached it, running, that it clustered about an ambulance that was backed up to the sidewalk. Just as he pushed his way through the throng it drove off, its clanging gong scattering the people right and left. A little girl sat weeping on the top step of the stoop. To her Mike turned for information.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSusie, what\u2019s up?\u201d he asked, confronting her with his armful of papers. \u201cWho\u2019s got hurted?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s papa,\u201d sobbed the girl. \u201cHe ain\u2019t hurted. He\u2019s sick, and he was took that bad he had to go, an\u2019 to-morrer is Christmas, an\u2019\u2014oh, Mike!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>It is not the fashion of Essex street to slop over. Mike didn\u2019t. He just set his mouth to a whistle and took a turn down the hall to think. Susie was his chum. There were seven in her flat; in his only four, including two that made wages. He came back from his trip with his mind made up.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSuse,\u201d he said, \u201ccome on in. You take this, Suse, see! an\u2019 let the kids have their Christmas. Mr. Stein give it to me. It\u2019s a little one, but if it ain\u2019t all right I\u2019ll take it back, and get one that is good. Go on, now, Suse, you hear?\u201d And he was gone.<\/p>\n<p>There was a Christmas tree that night in Susie\u2019s flat, with candles and apples and shining gold on, but the little dollar did not pay for it. That rested securely in the purse of the charity visitor who had come that afternoon, just at the right time, as it proved. She had heard the story of Mike and his sacrifice, and had herself given the children a one-dollar bill for the coupon.<\/p>\n<p>They had their Christmas, and a joyful one, too, for the lady went up to the hospital and brought back word that Susie\u2019s father would be all right with rest and care, which he was now getting. Mike came in and helped them \u201csack\u201d the tree when the lady was gone. He gave three more whoops for Mr. Stein, three for the lady, and three for the hospital doctor to even things up. Essex street was all right that night.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo you know, professor,\u201d said that learned man\u2019s wife, when, after supper, he had settled down in his easy-chair to admire the Noah\u2019s ark and the duckses\u2019 babies and the rest, all of which had arrived safely by express ahead of him and were waiting to be detailed to their appropriate stockings while the children slept\u2014\u201cdo you know, I heard such a story of a little newsboy to-day. It was at the meeting of our district charity committee this evening. Miss Linder, our visitor, came right from the house.\u201d And she told the story of Mike and Susie.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd I just got the little dollar bill to keep. Here it is.\u201d She took the coupon out of her purse and passed it to her husband.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cEh! what?\u201d said the professor, adjusting his spectacles and reading the number. \u201cIf here isn\u2019t my little dollar come back to me! Why, where have you been, little one? I left you in Bedford street this morning, and here you come by way of Essex. Well, I declare!\u201d And he told his wife how he had received it in a letter in the morning.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJohn,\u201d she said, with a sudden impulse,\u2014she didn\u2019t know, and neither did he, that it was the charm of the little dollar that was working again,\u2014\u201cJohn, I guess it is a sin to stop it. Jones\u2019s children won\u2019t have any Christmas tree, because they can\u2019t afford it. He told me so this morning when he fixed the furnace. And the baby is sick. Let us give them the little dollar. He is here in the kitchen now.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And they did; and the Joneses, and I don\u2019t know how many others, had a Merry Christmas because of the blessed little dollar that carried Christmas cheer and good luck wherever it went. For all I know, it may be going yet. Certainly it is a sin to stop it, and if any one has locked it up without knowing that he locked up the Christmas dollar, let him start it right out again. He can tell it easily enough. If he just looks at the number, that\u2019s the one.<\/p>\n<p>\u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022 \u2022[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_widget_sidebar title=&#8221;Subscribe&#8221; sidebar_id=&#8221;cs-1&#8243;][vc_column_text]By subscribing, you will automatically receive the latest episodes downloaded to your computer or portable device. Select your preferred subscription method above.<\/p>\n<p>To subscribe via a different application: Go to your favorite podcast application or news reader and enter this URL: https:\/\/clearwaterpress.com\/byline\/feed\/podcast\/<br \/>\n[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row]\n<\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text] Episode 11 \u2022 The Little Dollar&#8217;s Christmas Journey \u2022&nbsp;The coupon looked for all the world like a dollar bill, except that it was so small that a baby\u2019s hand could easily cover it. SHOW NOTES ____________ The Little Dollar&#8217;s Christmas Journey By Jacob Riis \u201cIT is too bad,\u201d said Mrs. Lee, and she put&hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":14771,"featured_media":926,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[10],"post_series":[],"class_list":["post-960","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-podcast-episode","tag-jacob-riis","entry","has-media"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO Premium plugin v27.9 (Yoast SEO v27.9) - https:\/\/yoast.com\/product\/yoast-seo-premium-wordpress\/ -->\n<title>The Little Dollar&#039;s Christmas Journey - Byline: Homeschool Writing Curriculum<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/clearwaterpress.com\/byline\/little-dollars-christmas-journey\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"The Little Dollar&#039;s Christmas Journey\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text] Episode 11 \u2022 The Little Dollar&#8217;s Christmas Journey \u2022&nbsp;The coupon looked for all the world like a dollar bill, except that it was so small that a baby\u2019s hand could easily cover it. 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