We’re a
blessed nation. Even truer, we’re a spoiled nation. No other country has it
quite as good as we Americans do. Part of that has to do with our personal
possessions and how we deal with them. Nothing seems to last anymore.
At one time
in another universe, folks got along with one pair of shoes. As kids, Jim and I
wore orthopedic shoes. Mother and Daddy scraped up the money for them with the
understanding that we boys took care of the shoes. Our clodhoppers were
polished on Saturdays for church the following day. Woe unto the boy who
tramped through water or mud that stained or damaged the leather.
Oh, we had
canvas tennis shoes, and when they became too worn or short, the toes were cut
from them so that they could serve for summer. Older pairs of shoes saw
after-school duty.
These days,
we throw shoes out like empty tin cans. If they aren’t in style or don’t feel
good, out they go. I’m ashamed to admit how many pairs are in my closet.
Perhaps I could have them re-soled when holes appear, but shoe repair stores
are rarer than hen’s teeth.
The same
holds true for clothes. As a kid, I had a couple of pairs of jeans, maybe a
pair of dress slacks, and a few shirts. I’d wear those clothes until the next
school year. If a hole in the knees developed, a patch was sewn over it.
These days,
most of us have more clothes than we need. I’m no different. A dozen pairs of
slacks, four pairs of jeans, and shirts for all seasons stuff my closet. Do I
need all these things, especially since I no longer have to show up at a place
of work? NO! Still, I buy at least a couple of new shirts each year, just for a
change. The old are thrown out or given to a charity.
I bought a
Pathfinder in 1987. To this day, it still sits in my driveway and hauls me to
the golf course and to the home improvement store. The interior is rough, and
just the other day, the headliner came loose. I drive that old vehicle because
it runs well, and since it’s filled with so many memories, I simply can’t let
it go.
I’ve also
owned a second car…several times. I believe I’m on my fourth one. Just like
lots of folks, I change cars too often. One was a truck that guzzled too much
gas. Two others I passed along to my children, and just recently, I replaced
one give away with a sedan. Somehow, we Americans think it’s okay to just throw
away cars when they no longer appeal to us and trade them with for newer,
flashier ones.
Amy and I
built this place we call home back in 1978. Over the years, we’ve added rooms
as our family has grown and porches as our desire to sit outside has increased.
It’s home to us, and although the place isn’t stylish or filled with the most updated
items, we love the way it fits us like a favorite pair of shoes.
My parents
built their home in the early 1940’s and even made the blocks for the house
after a day of work. They planned to stay there forever and did until their
time on this planet was up. Today, people buy starter homes with every
intention of buying at least a couple bigger ones in the future. It’s hard to
sink roots deep when folks move so often.
We throw
away too many things. It makes our lives more complicated and eats up
resources. That worries many people. What concerns me even more is the having
the same attitude about our relationships. We jump into them much too quickly,
only to find ourselves discarding them when they don’t work or fail to live up
to expectations.
Our
existence in this life can be more pleasant and more meaningful if we just quit
throwing things away. Keeping them, taking care of them, and being thankful for
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