Don’t buy a religion
I was one of the top five sales people in a group of one thousand. I sold cellophane-wrapped caramel corn balls, boxes of candy, wreaths, vegetable and flower seeds, magazine subscriptions and occasionally tickets to win something. Everything I peddled from door to door was for our Catholic school and other parish activities. Yes, I was barely tall enough to ring the doorbell, but as my father used to say about my success in sales, “That kid could sell ice to Eskimos!”
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