When growing up I never had a thing living in a sharecroppers shack, so
I have a fond affection for the throw away things as I was always one of
the throw away people in the world from those most wonderful teachers
looking down their nose at me until straight A's shows\ed up and made
them look good in something they had nothing to do with to the
"relatives" who never had time for the "poor folks" unless they needed
something.
All of that would probably bother me even in my situation today, but God
has told me His secret about me and well, here am I going about God's
plan through me that a great number of people are going to be groaning
over when judgment comes.
What I noticed today was my nurturing tendency again calling out to me
in a thrift shop in the form of 2 little kettles of about 2 cups each. I
have a psychological comfort with things of metal as they do not shatter
like glass nor do they ever burn up....and these kettles just looked
cute to me.
So for 30 cents each and visions of using them on my adventures in the
wilds or in the wilds of my old shack making tea in the morning
pretending I am a Canuck north of Flin Flon.......the treasures became mine.
I was working on them this afternoon with a combination of Awesome
(Awesome is some kind of natural cleaner my Mom buys. It is amazing
stuff in cutting grease, tar and just about anything you have given up
on ever getting off your clothes, hands or dishes) and a steel pad when
I started hearing the story my kettles were telling me and I got sad.
The bottom of one was burnt which means the tender was not paying
attention and an incredible mess occurred. The bottom of the other and
sides had that horrid grease glue combination on it which meant those
greasy cheap soups or Dinty Moore stew was in there and boiled over
again and again.
The kettles were telling me by the rivets being pitted that the person
was eating tomatoe soup as tomatoe soup is hell on aluminum. The rivets
also had some burning on them too which meant supper went up in smoke a
time or several too.
On the bottom was COMET and that confirmed how old they were.......along
with the writing stamped on the sides, 1 cup, 1 1/2 cup and 2
cups.....of course the writing was only cup, up and 2 cup as the metal
had been worn away from use.
The kettle spoke of a person who had been alone for a very long
time....eating alone thousands of meals.....cheap meals of grease and
solitude with probably only a television playing in the background for
family.
Obviously this person did have a family as someone collected their
meager possessions and dumped them off for free at the thrift
shop.....but they were too sophisticated for old pans with memories
speaking tales of loneliness and too busy to listen to their convicting
tales.......so an entire person's life was for nothing and amounted to
60 cents.
The owner obviously was old and making mistakes in the mishaps with the
kettles.......so they were carted off to a home or hopefully in God's
grace they just died in their sleep to a better reward.
So the story made me sad as I at times think of the things God has given
me.......my old stand mixers people sneer at to my old dog and old shack
where I live in the comfort of God enjoying it all more than if it was
the anal retentive mansions where people take their shoes off at the
door and must never dare drip a drop of water on the floor as it will
ruin all of that perfection found among the gluteous orifice crowds.
I think about that dead person now not giving a care about those kettles
or even aware of the sympathy I had for their life. It doesn't really
matter, but while I will most likely never find out who had my
kettles...........I will remember them every time I use them as I notice
things.
agtG
