Thank You

My husband and I have a two car garage that over the course of 30 years got filled up to the hilt with
old stuff, a lot of it discarded old furniture and electronics. They make the inside of the garage look like a forgotten oversized storage unit. I was so glad last weekend when my husband decided he finally felt ready to let go of its dusty treasures. He cleared a good twenty percent of it out, not a bad start, and put the furniture that was still in good condition out by the street curbside with a "Free" sign on them. The smaller stuff he took to a local charity. Pleased with his resolve, I felt relaxed when we took our dog for her daily walk later in the day. When we came back, two young women were loading the old recliner into the back of a big old truck. I smiled. That recliner held some memories, mostly of our son as a toddler playing with the electric seat that would push you up when you wanted to get out of it. The older of the two young women yelled out to us as she was getting ready to drive off with the recliner : " Thank you! My father is disabled and this will be nice for him, it will give him a break from his wheelchair ... Thank you so much !" I answered that I was glad the recliner would make a difference. As the truck left our street, I felt a surge of emotion, a warmth that was a mixture of sadness and amazement. Sadness thinking of the woman's father confined to a wheelchair, and amazement that our old forgotten recliner was something the woman was grateful for because we were giving it away.
Over the years that overstuffed, dusty garage has been a source of irritation to me, but I look at it in a different way now, since my husband agreed to start emptying it out, giving the contents away. Like a garage sale, but one where all the stuff is free. Our son decided he did not want anything that was in big bins, that held old toys and books, since he already made the decision what to keep each time he cleaned out and updated his room over the years. So the toys and books in the garage went to charity,
a whole carload of them, and we have easily another nine loads of stuff to go before that big garage will be completely empty and we can replace the carpet and fridge in it, and after 30 years the old garage will feel brand new. It will match my attitude. It is always a humbling experience to realize that old stuff that just sat around can bring hope to someone else. I grew up under privileged circumstances and living a much more modest lifestyle reminds me that things do not come easy, and that to be grateful is a big part of a kindness that is both savvy and wise. As we were walking back to the house and entered through the front door, our small home felt extra friendly and cozy. Before I saw the truck and the young women loading up our old recliner, I kept thinking about an article I read in the New York Times while at my hairdresser, about the fact that 30 million children are displaced worldwide due to wars. The article followed the lives of three of these children, one 12 year old Syrian girl living in a Lebanese refugee camp with her parents and siblings, one 9 year old boy who fled into a swamp after the militia came through his village in South Sudan, and who lost all his family, and one 11 year old boy who lived with his parents in his bombed out house in a village in war torn Ukraine. Reading their stories was numbing and heartbreaking. The worst thing these children lost was hope. Their childhoods were destroyed along with their homes, their families and along with them, their belief in a future. The sight of the truck and the family in it taking part of our old garage's contents made me visualize these children who had to leave everything behind, all their treasured things, but also their sense of security, belonging, safety, identity. It made me feel good to know the stuff we were giving away was giving someone some hope and dignity at a time when they
needed it. I looked around our cozy, busy house. It is 32 years old now and we have lived in it for 27 so far. Its rooms need new paint and in some cases new wall paper, the furniture is old and mismatched, the ceilings need a fresh coat of white paint, the kitchen cabinets are worn, and tired looking. But to a refugee who has lost everything, our cozy, well supplied home would feel like a slice of paradise. A big new fridge full of good food, warm, clean beds, a clean bathroom with hot water, soap and shampoo, and fresh, soft towels, peace, security, a great garden full of flowers and with a pool to cool you off on hot summer days, workable cars in the driveway, no bombs going off, no fear, no pain, or despair. Irritation at a dusty garage full of old stuff would be a laughable concern. I thought again of the words the young woman yelled out : " Thank you ! Thank you very much! " Gratitude. I think it is a virtue that needs constant polishing when you can say you live without fear and with a full stomach with your family coming home to you safely every night.