My father used to empty his pockets and keep the coins on the tray. This was my solvent bank, where I can always borrow never to return. Every day, the street vendors would pass my house calling out the items for sale.I called them from the window and ran to the door for buying various things.
I would pick up the coins from this very brass tray, that was refilled each day. I never thought that it was stealing, because nobody told me that, how could they. no one was there when I used to pick up the coin to buy something.
I am certain, that my father knew about my habit of picking up coins, but he never stopped me.When, the brass tray would get too many coins, then he would wrap the coins with brown paper. Hundreds of each, and I was the one who counted for making the rolls.
Years passed and I never felt that my pocket money was insufficient, for my supplies were from the brass bank :))