Question

杠

このお話はまとめるとどういう話なのでしょうか？

Mama's Bank Account
(1)
I am Katrin. When I was a child, all my family lived in a small house
in San Francisco. My family members were Mama, Papa, my elder brother
Nels, my younger sisters Christine and Dagmar, and I. We were
immigrants from Norway.
I remember that every Saturday night Papa brought home a little
envelope with his pay in it. Mama would sit down by the kitchen table
with a serious look. She was counting it out. There would be several
piles of coins on the table.
"These are the rent," Mama would say, and set aside a big pile of coins.
"For the grocer." She set aside another pile of coins. "For Katrin's shoes,"
and Mama counted out the coins. "I'll need a notebook this week." Nels
said, and Mama put aside a ten-cent coin. At last, Papa would ask, "Is
that all?" Mama would nod and say, "That's good. We don't have to go
to the bank to withdraw money."

〔2〕
Mama's bank account was a wonderful thing. We were all so proud
of it. It gave us such a warm, secure feeling. We didn't know anyone
with money in a bank downtown. I remember our neighbors, the Jensens,
had to move away because they could not pay their rent. Mrs. Jensen
was crying when they left. I was filled with concern. I held Christine's
hand. "We have a bank account," she said calmly, and I was relieved.
(3)
When Nels graduated from grammar school, he wanted to go to high
school. "That's good," Mama said, and Papa nodded. "It will cost a little
money," Nels said. We all gathered around the table. I put a box in front
of Mama on the table. We called it the little bank. The little bank was
different from the bank downtown. It was used for sudden emergencies,
such as seeing a doctor or going to a drugstore for medicine.
Nels wrote down everything, for the bus fare, for clothes, for
notebooks, and so on. Mama looked at the figure for a long time. Then
she counted out the money from the little bank. There was not enough.
"We don't want to go to the bank," she said. "I'll work in Dillon's grocery
after school," Nels said. Papa said, "That's not enough." Then he took
his pipe out of his mouth, and looked at it for a long time. "I'm going to
give up smoking," he said suddenly. Mama touched Papa's hand gently,
but she did not say anything. She just wrote down another figure. "I'll
look after the Elvington children every Friday night," I said. "Christine
can help me."
"That's good," Mama said.
We all felt very good. We didn't have to go to the bank downtown.
The little bank was enough for now.

(4)
I remember so many things came out of the little bank that year.
Christine's costume for the school play, Dagmar's operation, my Girl Scout
uniform, etc. However, I always felt comfortable when I thought of the
money in the bank downtown.
Even when Papa's company did not do well and he could not work, we
all worked together. During that time, Mama helped out at Kruper's
Bakery and brought back a big sack of unsold bread. Papa washed bottles
at Castro's Milk Shop every night. They gave him three liters of fresh milk
and all the old milk. Mama made fine cheese.
When Papa went back to work, Mama looked around at us proudly,
and said, "That's good." She smiled. "See? We didn't have to go to the
bank downtown."
(5)
That was 20 years ago.
Last year, I made my debut as a novelist and sold my first story.
When the check came, I hurried to Mama's, and gave it to her. "This is
for you," I said. "Put it in your bank account." All at once, I noticed
something for the first time. Mama and Papa looked old. "That's good,"
she said, and her eyes showed pride. "Tomorrow," I told her, "you must
take it to the bank." Mama looked at me. "There is no account," she
said. "In all my life, I've never been to a bank." And when I did not-
could not-answer, Mama said earnestly, "It's not good for little children
to be afraid. They should feel secure."