I had met and become associated with another woman who was getting into middle age, who was a bit older than myself, but still within my age range. She and her husband had a large family of children. She was intelligent and likable, rather charming. She had lots of ideas, and was eager to follow through on much of what she declared, able to have a certain amount of success in making her own dreams come true. We had had lots of friendly visits. I enjoyed her contagious deep-dimpled smile and had gleaned much from her adept knowledge in a wide range of areas.
One sunny afternoon while the kids played, we had been discussing the how to's of managing a family on a budget, how to pay off all the bills, and then to move forward into the future in a way by which one's materially based dreams would come true. She had spoken of her opportunity to have come by some advice from a lady who wrote a newsletter which taught a person to be so very frugal that one could pay off one's dream house over a rather short duration of time, and have everything else besides, all by just noticing how to scrimp and save properly in the little ways, such as buying all toys at rummage sales or re-using disposable vacuum cleaner bags. Our conversation, of course, was beneficial even if it was only laughter and chatter, since we both enjoyed the discourse, but on this particular day, something had come across me. Call it wishful thinking or call it pride, but I became determined to become like the lady spoken about, the one with the dream home on a budget.
Something within me must have needed to die, I realized later, as I found myself wanting this very much, through the few details which she had given to me. Swiftly I had declared to myself that I must know better how to scrimp and save. I would need to hang onto this incessant conviction that each and every move would be for the dream our family was looking to the future to behold, those material items wished for and a large bank account. I would be shrewd, and eventually rich, all from declaring from that day forward, and living it, that I would now buy and use responsibly. This responsible attitude would save me thousands, and I would, through my own will of power and positive thinking bring about wealth in our home, which would be my much deserved reward.
The Lord dealt with me quickly and swiftly. Here is the account of my first trip out with my new "will to power" attitude:
My first task, after conviction, was to go out and buy a kiddie swimming pool for the back yard as cheaply as possible, since that was the first "necessity" which came up on my "cheap" list, as we were getting into summer time. We were able to go to the lake now and then, and the kids were learning to swim at the local pool, but a kiddie pool would bring a diversion to the kids on those heated afternoons, and we could enjoy the back yard more, which had now donned only a simple swing set for them. To ascertain a price, I recalled that a few months before I had noticed that there were some of those cheap plastic pools being advertised for about $12 dollars. So I set my price. I would refuse to go over that price. The kids and I set out in the mini van on a warm afternoon. It would be a quick trip, and then we could come home and all enjoy a sunny afternoon.
I recall distinctly that it was on my husband's and my anniversary. It was more than a dozen years that we were married. I had planned to stop at the store to buy something special for dinner, as it was in the middle of the week, and we could not go out dining, as he got home too late. When at the grocery store, I decided to go ahead and splurge on the seafood and wine though, because I knew my husband would like this on our special day, and I didn't want to disappoint him for dinner. Still more so then, I thought that I must make up for the cost by selecting the cheapest pool I could find, since costs for the day were already getting high, and it was my job to "save" us into a salary.
After purchasing the food, I drove, then, on this hot summer day, with the kids in the car, cramped and sweating in the heat despite the air conditioning, from store, to store, to store, to store, looking for that one cheap kiddie pool. The average pool was $25, to my annoyance. I had already made up my mind on what to spend, and the store price and my price did not match up. However, I could not back down, I thought, or I would never be able to achieve this new dream which I had come up with. I was determined to find the cheapest pool in town. This attitude hinged on my own will to power through a newly found positive conviction, and my own will to believe I was entitled to the pool I wished myself to have. As for the kids, I temporarily forgot all about what their real needs were about. Now their kiddie pool had become more about me than them.
Pulling up in front of Rite Aid, into one of the perpendicular slots which normally sit in front of their stores, I sighed, looked around, and found myself sorely disappointed at what I was seeing. Their pools were sitting right out in front of the building, under a sign which said $25 dollars. I would not buy it, as I would keep obsessing, in my mind, about my new conviction. I then watched as a man ran across hurriedly in front of my car to his van. I put my vehicle in reverse, backing out.
That was when we all felt the lurch, the bump. I had hit something. The man in the van to my left and I both got out of our vehicles. There he was, that same man who had just run across in front of my car when it was turned on and running, ready to back out. Ugh! I couldn't believe that he could get into his van and back out that quickly, and that we could hit each other. I was already backing out when he was still walking...or so I thought.
Both vehicles were, to my observance, backed into each other, both backed at each other at an angle to turn toward opposite directions. He declared the accident to be my fault, and said he was going to call the police.
I looked at the man. He appeared to be of middle age, but on the younger side of it. He was dark skinned and even featured, maybe mostly African American by race. Although he had a confident and polite demeanor and a well groomed appearance, he laid out the disturbing news. He told me that he had five kids and simply could not afford to pay for the damage.
I looked at his van. It was quite old but obviously well maintained despite its lack of luster and style. There was a big dent on the back right rear side.
Then I looked at my car, quite new and shiny. The back light was broken out and there was a very small ugly dent which was bearing metal. I immediately felt remorse for what I had helped to cause both of us in damages. He made it clear then, that he was calling the police, declaring that it was my fault. I was not sure if it was all my fault...the thought of insurance and premiums and deductibles made me sick for this moment...the thought of the police, the weight of a cycle of negative expectations augmented for me the misery which was laying itself out for a course ahead.
Just then, something like magic seemed to happen. I looked around in my nervousness, and there, yonder across the smoothly paved highway of parking lots, a large overhead sign caught my eye, and seemed to be calling to me. It said, "Nick's Auto Body". A collapsed spirit immediately was given renewed breath within me. "I know," I said to the man, pointing at the auto body shop, "Let's go over to there and see what they can do for repairs."
For a second he was reluctant. "You'll take off on me. You'll drive away," he said. I gave him my license. This quelled his fears, and he reacted with a "what the heck, I'll go for it" attitude. We jumped in our vehicles, the five kids and I in my hunter green mini van, and he, alone, in his fairly large, reddish van. We drove smoothly across the parking lots and came to the site of the auto body shop. Stepping out of our vehicles, and standing together for a moment, assessing what to do, we immediately encountered a man there on the spot, who had noticed us handily. We waited as the man said that he would go and get Nick himself, who would be with us shortly to help us. The man with the van and I were cordial, as if both of us personally had hopeful expectations for a resolve to this petty vehicle mishap.
Anticipating Nick, as we did there together in the parking area--my kids still in the car but hanging out windows--one might automatically have expected to see a middle aged, graying man called Nick coming toward us to approach us about the damage. It was an amusing surprise when Nick emerged out of the somewhat usual dilapidated looking auto body center. By his casual dress alone, he looked like he could have been making Hollywood movies and millions. I guessed, though, that he wasn't aware of this sort of missed opportunity. Young and extremely handsome, with fabulous hair, full red lips, a well sculpted nose and pensive eyes, Nick gave us a warm greeting. He asked us what he could do for us in his thick Eastern European accent which I recall to have been Russian.
The man with the van, whose name I never learned, began to converse with Nick. He explained exactly what he wanted done. He seemed to be accustomed to a knowledge of body work, and pointed out details of what he desired in the repair of the vehicle's body. Nick was agreeable as they discussed briefly back and forth. It had been discussed that I was to pay for it.
Nick turned around to face me, ready to make a deal.
"It will be $200.00," he said patiently in his straight business tone.
Gasping a bit, I yelled out in response, "...$175!"
Nick had observed my car full of kids carefully, but now he looked straight at me and gave what I would describe as a long, drawn out, dull, and very blank stare. Looking straight back at Nick, I couldn't quite guess what his reverie was indicating, but so was I simultaneously and unabashedly trying hard to make expressive, happy, exaggerated smiles at Nick, thinking that it would cheer him into reducing the price by $25, which I wanted to desperately save. It was no longer a matter of spending $25.00. All I wanted was to save a measly $25.00. Yes, I wanted to only save $25, which I could maybe spend on a pool for the kids!
The ever-long moment of silence, the tiny, minute eternity soon broke, and Nick, shifting positions, ever-so-slightly smirked with a friendly, heartfelt nod. He said he'd do it for $175.00.
My reaction, ironically, was that I felt defeated. "Oh shoot," I thought, "I should have tried to lower it to $150.00." But then I saw how reality was dealing with me, that I had to pay there and then. I was able to let go, to accept the pain of what had been caused by my careless acts. I stepped over to the car to get my checkbook, and scribbled out a check for Nick with my own smirk.
The three of us stood there then, in our conference circle, and the pleasantness of the afternoon, through the warm breeze and the bright sun, seemed to surround all of us, together, in our contentment. It was a brilliant moment. We were all happy with what we could get from the standards we had originally set, in a peaceful way. For a moment I felt the kindling of a friendship with the two others, one which I would remember always.
I turned back over to the car. With all the windows open and the breeze blowing, the kids were more impatiently hanging out to get a breath of cooler air. Now I must get home, as the expensive sea food had rolled out of the bag in its wrapper. It was surely getting warm and starting to spoil.
Nick looked at the back end of my mini van as I was getting ready to leave. "What will you do with your vehicle dent?" He asked in his thick accent.
"Ah, probably just let it rot," I answered jokingly with a laugh. I got into the car, and I drove away, leaving Nick and the man in the van to fold up the rest of the loose ends themselves.
The kids were now all buckled in their seat belts, happy to cool off with the air conditioning blowing hard upon their overheated little bodies. Driving along, I surely hoped the fixing of the other guy's van would all pan out well. My name and address were on the check, so surely, all must have gone well, as there was no other notice ever received. I made note, as I drove along, that the $12.00 swimming pool would cost about $250.00 after fixing my own back light, and that was 10 times the original price of a standard pool. But life would go on.
Hours later, as the sun was finding its way on a downward trek in the heat of a hot summer's day, my husband and I were able to have a nice anniversary dinner out on the back patio. I felt thankful, that evening, for such little favors as peacefulness and friendship that day, as well as a nice, simple outdoor dinner to commemorate our wedding anniversary after a long day's work. As to the vehicle, we figured we could order a piece of the back light, and buy a small patch up bottle of paint to cover the bare metal. That would have to suffice, and actually, it did.
Fair market value has its reasons, as does saving, as does frugality, as does the need to spend. Spending and saving wisely are certainly virtues, but as for the conviction about that darned prideful scrimping, it went out the car window on that hot afternoon, as we drove home in the hot sun without a pool, spoiling sea food, kids that were overheated, and a check balance of nearly $200 less and nothing to show for it but a dent in the back. I was now beginning to learn that all important lesson, that we are to trust in God and not in ourselves, that prudence bears with it discernment in many considerations, and that what we strive to do on our own, without prayerful and recollected consideration based on the Spirit of God, may very well, sooner or later, bring about the exact opposite results of what we have set out to accomplish.
As for the scrimping lady with the dream house, who re-used disposable vacuum cleaner bags (mine burst open when I tried it) I learned something too. I learned that the gifts and charisms of my neighbor are not necessarily mine too.
It is now all a delightful memory, and its valuable lesson in my earlier years was well worth the small price I actually paid
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