A Lesson in Life

Every time the Salvation Army mails a letter asking for funds I send a check.  Other than that one outfit, I do not give my hard earned money to any organization. It's easy for me to say "No, thank you." and continue on my way without even one teenie tiny bit of feeling guilty.  That's because I know a huge percentage of the money that is donated goes for overhead and salaries instead of to the needy.  Lot's of salaries.  Care to guess what the head of the United Way or Red Cross makes?  I won't say earns, because they don't earn anything.  If they did, the overhead and salaries would not be so large.  Put a little effort in and look it up.  Then look up the Salvation Army.  You'll discover why my money goes there. 

Even though I have no trouble saying no to organizations, I'm an easy mark for someone standing in front of me who asks for help.  Con artists have always loved people like me.  People with a hard luck story pray for the day I walk into their life.  And, although I expect to keep my end of the deal, I cut a lot of slack to folks with whom I enter into agreements.   I do not drive a very hard bargain.

I'm not a very good salesman.  All my friends at the place I used to work everyday will verify this.  When it came time for a new chapter in our lives, one which would require us to move to a town more than a thousand miles distant, the chapter began with a fire sale.  I sold everything including our airplane, my '54 Chevy pickup, the house and several parcels of land for half price.  I do better when I use an agent to handle my stuff, but we needed to get it done in a hurry and I have mixed emotions about owning stuff anyway.  Some days I'm fiercely protective of the things we have but most of the time I feel the only thing anyone actually possesses is located somewhere between the ears.  We're just renting the rest of the baggage that comes with our lives and when we're done with it someone else should be able to use it for a while.  At half price.  It is, after all, used stuff after we're done with it, right?  It is not surprising, therefore, that I came out on the losing side of a Craigslist deal again yesterday. Too bad I can never find someone like me when I buy things. 

We were looking for some sort of low bench that would fit our entry area so Carolyn could sit while I changed her shoes to either go out or come in.  After several weeks of searching Craigslist the perfect bench finally showed up.  It was made of a gnarled and twisted log, the ends of which had been cut more or less square.  A pair of two-by-ten boards had been attached to the ends much the same as the end of a pew at your favorite place of worship.  It was a very unusual bench and worthy of resting in our unusual home.

I went to take a look and loved it.  I knew Carolyn would also enjoy having it around but was a bit concerned that she, with her balance problems, could not manage to sit easily on the twisted piece of wood.  I expressed my concerns to the seller and asked if I could take it home for my wife to try.  I was told there would be no problem.  If it didn't work out I could just bring it right back for a prompt refund.  My fears were justified.  Carolyn could not manage to balance on it so I loaded it up and took it right back. 

Now, here comes the part where you shake your head in amazement at my trusting nature and stupidity.  No one was home when I arrived so I left the bench on the porch.  I ran some errands and returned. Still no answer.  I went home and called.  My call was returned and I was told I could  come back in the morning and get the refund.  This morning the bench was gone, there was no answer and the messages I left on the phone have not been returned.    She has the bench, the money and another little piece of the faith I have in my fellow man.  The conditions I was able to see of her life make me believe she needs all these things more than I so I'll probably just let it go. 

I may send a card thanking her for allowing me to help, but the irony would probably not be detected.  I just hope I have not enabled an addict.  This lesson in life is one that has been presented to me many times and I have never learned it.  I hope I never learn to doubt fellow souls on this journey, but I wish the lessons weren't so darned expensive.