It makes me think back to a time when I had so much less than I have now – and yet, I had so much, so very, very much. I was aware of it at the time, and I was grateful for it. But looking back, I can see even more clearly, how wonderful that time of being “poor” really was.
Please bear in mind, when I say “poor” I don’t want to make light of the fact that even then, I had more than probably 80% of the world’s population. I had food, clothing, shelter, clean water, and many, many amenities that so many people never experience. So please understand, when I say “poor” I understand how much I had, and how blessed I was.
When I say we were “poor,” I mean that both Steve and I were working part-time, low-paying jobs, with no health insurance, and barely paying the bills at the end of the month. New clothes were out of the question, and so was eating out.
But those times taught me to enjoy and be creative with what I had. And it taught me to appreciate the little things. I remember one time my mom sent us $20 and said to do something fun. We went to A&W and got burgers, fries and root beer floats. It was pure LUXURY!
In that first year and a half, Steve worked a job that, by most people’s standards, was a dead-end, menial labor, part-time job that paid very little: he hauled junk. But I never want to forget the wonderful things that came of it. Like the super cute shoes I am wearing right now. It was amazing the things that people threw out, as trash! I have several brand-new or like-new pairs of shoes that Steve brought home to me. And these were just the things he found in my size – countless other items were casually tossed out by people with more money than sense. (They didn’t even take them to Goodwill, but don’t worry, Steve did. No use in filling our landfills with perfectly useful, wonderful things.) I have several jackets, backpacks, a brand spankin’ new – still-sealed-in-the-box – DVD player, a year’s supply of Mary Kay products, a 16th map of the United States (quite valuable it turns out), framed art and a lovely accent table.
One of our favorite “junk” finds was the set of tennis rackets Steve brought home. We spent several nights a week in the city park, learning to play tennis, having fun – and all it cost was $2 for a can of three tennis balls that lasted all summer.
One of things I miss about those days was the time we had together. With both of us working part-time, we were able to spend the early months of our marriage together. Lately, with both of us working full-time, overtime and opposite shifts from each other, time together is a precious commodity. Even though we can now afford brand new tennis gear, I can’t remember that last time we had time to play tennis together. I am thankful that we were able to build a foundation with the abundance of time together in the early days.
I am not trying to say that it was all roses and peaches. We were stressed about making rent. What if one of us got sick? We had no health insurance? I remember having to have a blood test done: my doctor refused to refill my absolutely-necessary-for-life thyroid prescription (thank goodness for $4 prescriptions!) without a standard blood test … that just happened to cost $400. I had to fill out financial hardship paperwork with the lab, to get them to discount the test. It was disheartening and embarrassing.
I was interesting to watch how people treated us when we were “poor.” There were the people who remembered what it was like to be just starting out, and the people who had forgotten. Some people were so wonderful to us, sending us Kroger gift cards and giving us hand-me-downs. Others treated us like we were such sticks-in-the-mud when we didn’t join the group going out to eat after church, and eyed our homemade Christmas gifts with disappointment and disdain.
Those people taught me that I always want to remember what it is like to not have much. I never want to forget that going out for a burger, fries and float really is a luxury. I should never take for granted a routine test paid for by my health insurance.
One of my most treasured memories was our first married Christmas. I desperately wanted a Christmas tree. Steve hoped someone would toss out an artificial tree (he is allergic to real trees) before Christmas, but no one did. We figured everyone must toss out their trees after Christmas, and buy a brand new one during the after-holidays sales. I didn’t want our first Christmas together to be un-Christmas-y, so we went to Target and priced the artificial variety. Can I say waaaaaaaaaaaay out of price range? I was heartbroken, but resolved to decorate our little bamboo houseplant with the few ornaments we already owned. Then one day, a week before Christmas, I came home to find a very excited husband and a crooked, shedding, half-lit Charlie Brown Christmas tree leaning in the corner! Steve had found a tree at the last minute and dragged it up to our second floor apartment. We scrounged up enough money to buy a stand, some new lights and a few cheap glass bulbs, and it was Christmas! I still consider it one of the most romantic things Steve ever did for me. To this day, we still have and use that tree, and I don’t ever want to replace it. You can’t buy memories like that.
This photo was taken after the "poor" years. But notice the very crooked, leaning, beautiful Charlie Brown Christmas tree that reminds us that in everything, we should be thankful.
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