I remember getting stamps for Christmas from my
grandparents. A coiled roll. Of 100.
This was back in the 80s. It was
the ultimate gift, and I loved it. I
can’t imagine another teenager in the world anticipating that for
Christmas. My aunt still sends me some
once in awhile; how does she know? Even
now, I feel rich when I glance in the mail cupboard and see several little
sheets of self-adhesive stamps. Brand
new stickers hiding out in their little cellophane envelope. Options wide open. I can write a letter to the editor, send my
sister some recipes, write a little note to a friend who moved away, pop a
congratulations on an accomplishment in the mail, or send off a get well,
birthday or gift card.. Anything is
possible. I’m totally rich.
I also feel rich when I see the needle is closer to the F
than the E on the gas gauge. I feel again
like I have all sorts of options. I can
go anywhere. I don’t have to worry about
the cost of gas for at least a few days because I don’t have to fill up anytime
soon. I sigh with contentedness. The temps can drop to -20 and I’ll have
enough gas to let the engine idle for a good 15 minutes to warm up. I can make it into town and back a few more
times.
I know, an unusual way to ascertain my wealth. But by this point you know I’m a little
unconventional, and you also know I’m telling you the truth.
Our kids occasionally question why we are so weird compared
to some of their other friends. Why we
don’t go on as many trips or have as many fun toys. We talk about money and their concerns pretty
openly. Todd’s used Monopoly money to illustrate a normal month’s expenses for family
night. They were out of paper bills
before the month ran out. Love a good
teaching moment. We try to teach them to
have a realistic approach to consumerism and materialism, to look for good
quality but to curb their covetings. We’re
just a regular family—we’re not that great at any of this. We try to share our values while encouraging
them to tell us how they see it. But we try
to always point out about how very, very rich we are. We have running water, a warm house,
opportunities for good education, our faith, our friends, our relatives and
each other. We are among the wealthiest
people on the earth. They sometimes roll
their eyes. But if there’s been a hard
little patch for a friend or family we can share with them in some way, I sense
they understand what we’re talking about, that we have it so good, that things
could be so much worse. To just be
grateful for all that we have. We have
so very much to be thankful for.
I feel rich when we’re all home for the night. When we’re gathered around the fireplace, not
because we’re having a meeting, but just because we all ended up here. Maybe someone’s reading. Another one’s having a snack. Mostly just talking about life, cuddled up in
different bundles. Maybe someone will
make popcorn. There’s almost always
music in the background. I also feel it
when we’re gathered around the table and have fresh food from the garden. Or when Todd’s home and I see him working
with a kid in the yard. We are so
abundantly blessed.
I feel rich when we call up friends at the last minute to
come hang out. We are so blessed to have
found people we can connect with and raise our family with, especially since
our extended family is no closer than a day’s drive in any direction. I feel rich to have a committed husband. I realize every marriage has its issues, but
we hang in there. We are so very, very
blessed to have been able to live together and raise kids together. I feel especially rich sitting at church all
together as a family on the pew. I know
that sounds old-fashioned, but I mean it.
Peace like that can’t be bought.
It doesn’t take much.
A few stamps, a warm bed, some gas in the car, being with people I
love. Think about what makes you feel
rich. If you’re honest with yourself I’d
wager that it’s not what those fluff magazines are pushing. It’s not about the trips, clothes, cars or
houses they hype. It’s the tiniest
things like my grandma knowing all I longed for was a few stamps, a walk to a
waterfall with my family, a long talk with a close friend, feeling connected
with my teen sons, cuddling on the couch with my 8 year-old, games on Sunday
night with ice cream, watching them learning new things; it’s the little stuff
that the glossy papers don’t usually advertise that makes me feel like one of the
richest women in the world.
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