“Mom, noooooo” came the whines from my brother and me. Mom was serving us an egg on a paper plate that had been cut in half.
OK, this was crazy. She had stooped to a new low. Just the other day we had watched in disbelief as she inserted 2 link sausages into the mouth of an almost-empty ketchup bottle and rolled them around until they were properly coated with the condiment.
Such was life in our home, growing up.
My parents grew up during the Depression and from the day I was born until each passed away, they never had an income that went above the poverty level.
For several years we lived in my Dad’s woodworking shop on the industrial side of town with a powder room-sized bathroom and a tiny sink that doubled as a kitchen sink. A picnic cooler in the corner of the shop was used for our refrigerator and a portable “hot plate” served as our stove. Thankfully, living in warm Miami meant we could don our bathing suits when it got too dark to be noticed, and “shower” under a garden hose Daddy had rigged up outside.
It wasn’t until years later I realized that Mom hadn’t lost her mind. It was simply a matter of supply and demand. We had no “real dishes” in our tiny home and Mom, without funds, was running low on paper plates. Why use a whole plate when half would do until she could purchase more?
During these years, very few people knew how we actually lived because we always had clean, ironed clothes and every Sunday, Dad was on the church platform to lead the singing in a suit, starched white shirt, a tie and a happy heart that was reflected in his face and demeanor.
I laughed out loud this morning as I drizzled warm water into the bottom of my almost-empty facial cleanser bottle. I’m sure anyone watching would have laughed at me just as we laughed at Mom but I couldn’t
let that last little bit of product go to waste. I jokingly told Mom, “Mom, you taught me well” but then I had to amend that to, “Mom, you showed me well” how to not be wasteful and how to be thankful for the little things…even paper plates cut in half.
I do hope that somehow, Mom heard my confession.
My friends know that I have jokingly felt as if I was left behind the door when the Lord passed out the female trait of shopping. It holds no interest for me. After all these years, I finally understand why.
I am the first to be a “dog with a bone” when I’m looking for something in particular. But to shop just to shop for “stuff” and spend money that could either stay in my wallet or better yet, be spent on something that might meet a real need, just doesn’t float my boat.
Thanks to the very difficult position the Lord put my parents in, I truly watched them be “content with what they had.” To this day, I continue to learn from them.
Thank you Lord for your never-ending provisions on every level of our lives. Spiritually. Physically. Emotionally. Financially.
He never stops giving, does He? If only we noticed more often.
Psa. 68:19 Blessed be the Lord, Who daily loads us with benefits, The God of our salvation! Selah
…let us encourage one another—and all the more as we see the Day approaching
I’ve known you for over 50 years and never knew any of this stuff! Explains a lot! A WHOLE lot and I don’t mean that sarcastically. Of course you were influenced by your mom and dad but now I know that influence carried over in such positive ways. I love you! It’s been a wild ride these 50 years but we’re still here and there is a reason for every breath we take! Now I have to go and wash my aluminum foil, dry it off and fold it neatly in my drawer.
High Cathy,
I didn’t know that you blogged about end time prophecy. I have been a student of eschatology for years. Right now I’m doing an intensive study on Revelation, Ezekiel, and Daniel. I love it! I would really like to recoeve your blogs but don’t know how. Can you set me up?
Beautifully written and so refreshing to see how God uses all the things we grew up with in our family of origin to make us the people we are today. As you know, I was the first to accept Christ in my family. Don’t even have any indication that there would have been believers in those who came before me. However, because of my Dad’s great love for us, it was very easy for me to accept God’s love when it was presented. Thank you for this beautiful reminder that we all have a past that God knows about and uses in our lives daily.
I’ve heard these same stories from your brother. You writing of them is confirmation to the reality. I’m sure there were some difficult times, but you learned some valuable lessons. Thanks for sharing.
Well written and all too true. I’ve never forgotten the lessons we learned about resourcefulness from our wonderful parents. Every time I wander the isles of Home Depot looking for non-related items to construct a product that doesn’t exist, I think of Dad and verbally thank him. Whatever creativity we have came directly from them. Our childhood was one amazing education in Real-life Christian Living 101.
Incidentally, the one pair of shoes that dad owned were cleaned of house paint and polished prior to putting them on for church. Our home was always clean, regardless of how sparsely it was furnished. Dad’s commentary on personal cleanliness… “anybody can afford soap.” Very few ever knew this side of our family history, and neither of us will ever forget it.
Thank you Lord for our underprivileged childhood.
What a great heritage you have, Kathy. Bob often tells of how his mother washed and mended his family’s jeans over and over. She said, “You may not have as many clothes as others, but they will always be clean and mended.” Our throw-away society doesn’t know what to do with this. I love the blogsite http://becomingminimalist.com
because it expands everything you’ve said here. Less is so much more – more room, more freedom, more peace.