Thirsty Thursday

My cup may not be fancy but it’s overflowing and there’s plenty to share... Growing up being raised by a single mom and wearing my sisters hand-me-downs didn’t mean we were poor or living in poverty, but we definitely weren’t living a privileged lifestyle. Still we always had food, clothes, and the large dome home. I think I was about 11 years old when I found out that Payless shoe source wasn’t a real “brand name”. My friend at school had some new balance tennis shoes and I loved them! They were a fun color and all the rage at the time. Then she told me they were like $40 bucks. That was way too much to spend on shoes, At least in my world. She was nice enough to let me borrow hers whenever I wanted. I’m sure my mom could have bought me some but why? I had shoes. I had lots of shoes, I wasn’t bothered that they weren’t a “name brand”. A few kids at school were sporting shoes with tears or holes.... they needed shoes way more than me. I guess that’s why I never thought of myself as poor growing up. There were people that had a lot less than me. It seemed like my family was always helping people in need so how could we be poor? My mom would donate the clothes we no longer needed. We collected can food on Halloween for families in need, it wasn’t always my favorite thing, I wanted to trick or treat, but knew it was more important to collect that food for the needy. I had witnessed how grateful those families were to have a thanksgiving basket full of everything to make the perfect meal. My mom would always volunteer to deliver a few of those baskets herself despite our sometimes unreliable car. 

I can vaguely remember watching from the car window on one basket delivery as my mom knocked and stood on the shaky wooden steps outside a rundown single wide mobile. No patio or outside lights, but through the faded half closed curtains that dining room light made it clear to see in. Inside was a round dining table and at least 3 kids. I’m sure that woman that opened the door was grateful to see my moms smile and filled with ease to know she could feed her kids. I had a much better view though, I stared at that window watching those kids as that basket was placed on the table, smiles spread across their faces as their hands picked up items, one turned around to hug the mom. I was young then and even at that young age it made me feel good to see that. We always participated in the annual church Christmas caroling. It didn’t matter if my fingers were freezing, about to fall off, I would shake my tambourine, alongside my mom, in tune with the my favorite guitar man, everyone would sing and those good church women would collect money for people in need. How could I think of myself as poor? Or needy? I was being raised to help out those in need, to care for the poor, and watching those around me find so much joy in doing those simple things. I lost sight of that for awhile. As a young working adult with a good career, I made decent money. I bought tons of name brand crap. I spent money on things I didn’t even need. I always had a new car or truck. I spent a fortune on a kitchen remodel with all new appliances. I thought for sure those nice things and fancy brands must mean something and be important. It was like I was trying to have what everyone else had. Let me tell you a little secret.... even as an adult those labels and fancy things still don’t mean a thing! It’s a BIG WASTE OF MONEY! I made good money and I was always broke! It’s a big stress to have every penny you make spoken for already. After losing a lot of those things to bad decisions and divorce I was over it... I came to terms with the fact that if someone thinks the things I own, finance or where I live makes me who I am then that’s them being closed minded. Big expensive house or basic track home they all provide shelter. New “name brand” handbag or last years deal of the day at Ross they both can hold your wallet the same. I may not have a huge home (most would say it’s a “starter home”. I’m 35, it’s my home, I’m not starting over again!) I couldn’t care less that my fridge doesn’t match my oven or that my car has stock rims. I stress more about remembering my passwords to pay my bills online than I do about not having the money for them. I’m not rich, I’m not poor. I am blessed. I have everything I need and I always have a little to spare for someone in need. Looking back now at my life growing up it all makes perfect sense. We didn’t have it all but we had more then some and so why not share? I absolutely love to share my wealth even if my wealth isn’t much. I love to know that maybe I helped someone put clothes on their kid, saved them from spending their weekend at the laundromat by donating a washing machine, gave them a little pick me up with a new outfit I hardly wore that was taking up room in my closet. Heck, maybe just go shop for those things that single mom is hoping to find used, surprise her with everything new! It hydrates my thirsty soul. My cup overflows. We were put here to take care of each other. I believe it’s what makes life worth living.