You may remember that he started out the summer working at a local grocery store. He disliked the work, so he told the manager that he had to quit because he was needed to help out at his grandparents’ farm in Iowa. (You may also recall that his grandparents happen to be died-in-the-wool city-dwellers.) But, I must say, Andrew redeemed himself during the two weeks of the Minnesota State Fair. A friend had told Andrew that he had worked the previous two years at the fair, and had earned "good money," so Andrew's plan was to work for two weeks and make up for quitting at the grocery store. I was skeptical. Andrew often has big plans that, in the end, just don't pan out. But Andrew made all the arrangements, and started work at the Buffalo Burger booth on the first day of the fair.

After each of the first two days, Andrew came home elated. "This job is so easy," he exclaimed. "All I have to do is hand out buffalo burgers to the customers and take the money. And the booth isn't even that busy. I can work for 12 hours, and not get as tired as I did working just a few hours at the grocery store."

On the third day, however, his boss told him to come in at noon, and take a little break. When I asked Andrew, who was lying on the sofa watching TV, to carry his dirty laundry down to the basement laundry room and to pick up his room before leaving for work, he answered indignantly, "But I'm really tired. I've worked two 12 -hour days, and my boss told me to rest this morning, so that's what I'm doing. And now you expect me to do housework? I need to be resting up for the afternoon at the fair!"

Although I was a little indignant myself at that response, it turns out that morning was the only rest time that Andrew had during those two weeks. His dad dropped him off at the front gate of the fair each morning at 7:30, and he didn't return home until after 11:30 each night. He only had short breaks for lunch and dinner, and worked hard. He didn't complain once. The booth got busier, and Andrew's boss told him that he was one of the best workers he had ever had. As we visited him at work one day, I observed him kindly serving a rather unusual, odd customer, and I felt very proud of him. He may not work too much around home, and may have a difficult attitude at times, but out in public, he is a really great kid!

And Andrew's prediction was correct; he did earn "big money" -- almost $1,500. He quickly spent all but $400 of it, which his dad made him put in the bank. He treated himself to a $25 ride at the fair, and claimed, "I've never been so scared in my life! It was so great!" He also bought camping equipment, and a few souvenirs from the fair, including a fox pelt from a nearby booth that he visited daily.

My birthday was during the fair, and Andrew told me to choose anything I wanted from the fair, and he would buy it for me as my present. I told him to surprise me, and he presented me with a beautiful little wooden box. The money was spent faster than he made it. But he did work really hard for it, and nearly $1,500 for a 16-year-old must have made him feel really rich.

The last night of the fair, he and his friend, who worked at the Apple Dumpling booth across from the buffalo burgers, stayed after work to take in a few rides. But just after they got off work, it started pouring down rain. But he came home happy, anyway. It had been a great experience, he had had fun, had earned lots of money, had made some purchases he was really pleased with, and had a chunk of money in the bank.

The other evening at dinner, with the wind blowing outside and creating a wind-chill factor of twenty below zero, Andrew reminisced, "You know what I miss? My daily lunch at the fair of barbecued buffalo burger and spicy fries, followed with an apple dumpling for dessert. That was some great food!" And I thought, "Only a teenager could eat this fare daily for two weeks straight, and still miss it!" But I also remembered how proud I was of Andrew those last two weeks of summer. After the grocery store fiasco, I was wondering about his desire and discipline for work. But I wonder no more.

Jean