Back before social media, helicopter parents, stranger danger, and being chauffeured everywhere, I was a Camp Fire Girl tasked with the job of selling Camp Fire mints. That meant I was expected to take my carrier of six boxes of mints door to door in my neighborhood and sell them to kind people. I was to wear my uniform, have a good attitude, and sell, sell, sell.
I was shy and little. But I had a deep sense of responsibility to my group, so I would set out each year with my boxes of mints. Each year I dreamed that somehow I would sell enough mints to earn a scholarship to camp. Each year at Camp Namanu they would introduce the girls who had sold that many mints. I think you had to sell about five thousand boxes to get a scholarship.
In my neighborhood, houses were sparse and spread out. I trudged along walking up long driveways, knocking on doors, gathering my courage and smiling. I usually sold about 10 boxes for several afternoons worth of trying. I hated every minute of it.
Needless to say, I buy anything that any kid knocks on the door to sell me. Cookies, candy, wrapping paper, cookie dough, and magazine subscriptions. Usually, though, I see a parent hovering in the background. Some things have definitely changed!