THE Betty Crocker Project
RIPS TO THE S&H Green Stamps redemption center were always exciting. One summer day before entering fifth grade, I watched Mama go to the counter with the books full of postage-like stamps she’d saved up. She knew just what she wanted. It had taken her two years of buying groceries to earn enough stamps to trade in for an electric waffle iron. She had dampened the back of each stamp, sometimes entire sheets, and slowly but surely affixed them in book after book until she reached her goal. I couldn’t
