
My grandparents arrived in america with nothing. Here's what they taught me
- Select a language for the TTS:
- UK English Female
- UK English Male
- US English Female
- US English Male
- Australian Female
- Australian Male
- Language selected: (auto detect) - EN
Play all audios:

One of my last memories of my grandmother was her bending over in a parking lot, reaching for a penny stuck to the ground with some old goo, in spite of her closing in on 90 years old. She
hesitated, almost toppling over, at one point, but returned to standing, victorious, with that penny. Hours later, the penny had made its journey home in her pocket to a large jar in the
basement with thousands of other coins from thousands of random places. It was a penny I’d have easily passed over in my youth, haste and impatience. My grandmother Helen picked up pennies
because she and my grandfather John immigrated to the U.S. from Greece, after World War II, each arriving with a coin in their shoe but very little else. They built a life here. He ran a gas
station and she worked in the school cafeteria. It was the Greek American way. People always need to eat, sleep and drive, my relatives would say. Most of those in the extended Ghizas
family owned hotels, restaurants or gas stations. Many had escaped war-torn villages where there was not enough meat and bread. Life there was hard. _You can subscribe here to AARP
Experience Counts, a free e-newsletter published twice a month. If you have feedback or a story idea then please contact us here._ My grandparents were a thrifty pair, and their lessons have
suddenly become top of mind today, as inflation, daycare costs and the exorbitant price of a bunch of bananas have me picking up pennies myself, as I build a life raising five young kids in
uncertain times. In these moments, I think back to the lessons they taught me as I chip away at my expenditures. But I also find something more — a deep connection to the past, to soothing
rituals (that I once rolled my eyes at) that not only save money but evoke a slew of memories. HOMEGROWN SIDES AND TAKEOUT My grandparents bought land, and each of my aunts and uncles had a
piece of it. My grandfather would make rounds tending to small gardens, reminiscent of his farmer days in Greece. We had fresh tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, zucchini and more in salads at
every meal. It’s not that they never grabbed takeout. It’s that takeout might have been a simple burger, again paired with a Greek salad. You can bet my grandma saved the extra ketchup and
sugar packets, napkins and other extras that would come in a takeout bag. If someone showed up with a donut to visit them for coffee, there was fresh fruit cut in the fridge ready to pair
with it. Not only was this a money saver, but much healthier than pairing that burger with fries. AN ORIGINAL LOW-WASTE HOUSEHOLD Guests would ask where the trash can was. They never found
it. The trash can consisted of a small repurposed grocery bag hanging below the sink, and very little went in it. I was shocked at how many days it would stay there, just a quarter full. If
you really wanted to get in trouble, you’d sneak your leftover plate scraps in there, and cover it up with a napkin.