I was never interested in the world of high finance. My parents exerted some influence, of course.

My father suggested that those who were preoccupied with riches were lacking emotionally and spiritually. My mother believed wholeheartedly that money should be used for one thing — spending. As poet Edna St. Vincent Millay said, "With him for a sire and her for a dam what else could I be but just what I am."

It seemed natural for me to adapt the homemaker's mantra of the early 1960s — that the wife should be the heart of the home and husband the head. I concentrated on the inner life and let my husband worry about such crass responsibilities as paying bills.

After we divorced, I learned the hard way that practicing Zen and discussing Hamlet's personality quirks didn't put food on the table.

So it was with some trepidation that I became a member of the Little Hills Investment Club. Retired school teachers Donna Schenebeck and Allene Howell of St. Charles started the group in 1996. They encouraged me to join after I wrote a feature story on the club. They shrugged off my protestations of ignorance, indifference and skepticism about big business.

At first the discussions were as dense to me as a course in Aramaic. I didn't know a PE ratio from a PE class or Value Line from Vogue. I hung in there because I was impressed by the women's diligence in the research, selling and buying of stocks. Their informed discussions as to how contemporary trends, political and social issues and world events affected the market intrigued me. I enjoyed sharing our personal experiences with various companies.

We met monthly at Commerce Bank in St. Charles. The club's motto was "learn and earn," to be conservative in our selections and not expect to get rich.

Each partner invested $25 a month at first, and that grew to $50. We purchased stocks every month no matter how low the market dipped. We concentrated on blue chip stocks, preferring those from local businesses and those that paid dividends. Charter member Marjorie Semon made an 8 percent profit over the last 15 years. Those who joined later did well despite some dramatic downturns in the market.

There were seven original "partners." Howell and Schenebeck's membership goal was 12. At one point the club grew to 20 members. Last month the remaining 15 partners voted unanimously to disband. As one member put it, "Fifteen years is a pretty impressive run for a small, local investment group."

Sylvia Garzia of St. Charles has served as treasurer for the past few years. Garzia, 62, joined the club six years ago. Her interest in the world of finance began as a youngster when she and her father were regular viewers of "Wall Street Week," hosted by Louis Rukeyser on PBS.

A physical therapist by vocation, Garzia also has had experience as a bank teller. She explained there was little risk when it came to investing in stocks because members became part owners of businesses that were already successful.

"Often we selected companies based on their community involvement and how they served their people and there was a lot of discussion about that," she said.

Garzia explained that bookkeeping was more challenging for former treasurers of the group when each partner was responsible for a single stock or two that they followed and reported on to partners. After the group put its portfolio into TD Ameritrade, that software program streamlined bookkeeping and stock reports.

"I've learned many different aspects of stock market operation in this group," she said. "All my goals and expectations confirmed what I already knew — that women have very good intuition on the stock market. I'm very sad to see it end."

Howell and Schenebeck didn't live to see their faith in women's financial acumen live on in the club or to experience several profit shares whereby each partner benefited from dividends. In the 1997 interview, 62-year-old Schenebeck said she and 75-year-old Howell were inspired by "The Beardstown Ladies: Common Sense Investment Guide." The book was written by a group of older women from Beardstown, Ill., whose burgeoning portfolio made them famous. Later, the ladies discovered they weren't as rich as they thought.

"They started a club when one little old lady who wanted to invest was laughed out of a broker's office," Schenebeck said. "She proved them wrong and despite everything she's still laughing all the way to the bank."

I now read the business section of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch and understand daily stock market updates. I am more financially savvy, and I am grateful.

Esther Talbot Fenning of St. Charles County is a former features writer for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Opinion Shapers are chosen annually to write columns on topics of their choice.