When I was 15 and in foster care, I owned just enough clothes for two loads of laundry, one load of lights and and one load of darks. One afternoon as the sun slanted through the laundry room window, I pulled my warm light load out of the dryer only to discover that I had forgotten to take a wayward cherry chapstick out of one of the pockets. Everything was stained with pink greasy spots. In one careless moment, I had ruined half of everything I owned.
Two years later, I had told a girlfriend of mine that I could not go to a school dance because I had nothing, no shoes, no jewelry, no way to be pretty. A few days after, she handed me a delicate pearl necklace and bracelet set that her mom had bought for me and though I don't have memories of the actual dance, I do still have the pearls.
My sophomore year of college, I had used the last of my spare change to buy a $.39 box of elbow macaroni and an even cheaper can of tomato paste at the local Aldi discount store. (It's frightening that I still remember the exact cost..) I stood in my kitchen, cooking my poor man's meal and as I added pepper, the lid of the shaker came off, dousing my entire meal. As I ate my foul tasting dinner, helpless tears filled my eyes, brought on by thoughts of my empty bank account and exacerbated by an abundance of pepper in my sinuses.
Much time has passed and life has changed. I can now buy a pair of pretty earrings without too much thought, I can afford things that were out of reach when I was younger... olive oil, shoes with support, cheese NOT made by Kraft, Italian coffee, honey, soft toilet paper, Lindt.. I have a closet full of clothes and I no longer suffer sinus infections and sore throats for weeks before gathering the funds to go to a doctor. And a dead battery in my car no longer sends me into a depressed downward spiral as it it now easily addressed. I am by no means, rich, but I no longer feel hunger pangs. However, my life is full of reminders...
Before heading down to Peru as a teacher when I was 27 years old, I packed my bags with school books and 60 packs of crayons as the school had requested. Upon settling into the dusty Andean town, Puno, I headed to the school with my massive bag of crayons. As I handed a pack out to each student, I watched in amazement as something so ordinary was worth it's weight in gold in the excited eyes of my young students.
Years later, I was leading a youth choir rehearsal which had just finished as one young member passed around a couple boxes of addictive girl scout cookies. I watched as another member, a preteen boy furtively took one entire sleeve of cookies out and clumsily slipped them into his pocket. Another singer noticed as well, a young girl who generally says Everything, yet in this particular case, she held silent. We didn't want to say anything as our young cookie snatcher had spent years as a refugee and his life had held difficulties that we couldn't fathom. However, I could perfectly imagine him, safe yet insecure in his new world, home alone and unwrapping his cookie treasure. He and I would eventually have a chat, but that would come later.
While completing my TEFL certification, I began assisting with an English language class at Centro Romero in Chicago's Rogers Park neighborhood. I help out on Thursdays with a classroom full of incredibly intelligent warm immigrant adults who generally work too hard for too little. A few weeks ago, the teacher, a beautiful vivacious middle age colombian woman, brought in mexican sweetbreads for everyone. As I thoughtlessly bit into mine, I looked around the class, noticing how some students meticulously wrapped napkins around their bread, to save for later, while others carefully split theirs in two, some for now and some for another time. I thought about the differing value of such a simple item, and the unexpected pleasure of receiving a quiet gift.
Saint James and Saint Peter are all about simplicity. A pilgrim agonizes while packing for the Camino since each item in one's back pack will have to be carried for over 500 miles.. "Do I really need a phone for each country AND the corresponding adapters, Do I really want to carry makeup through the Pyrenees, How much bug spray do I really need?" (I rethought that last one after I had left my bug spray behind only to later be devoured by devil's spawn tiger mosquitos..) "Will I really wear that extra dress? Do I really need a solar charger? Will I really carry a little ceramic owl ornament all the way to Rome?" (yes.. and back to Chicago..) As I left certain things along the way and acquired other things to carry, I realized that what was in my back pack was quite irrelevant, as irrelevant as the contents of my closets and home.
After all, sometimes when I have everything,
everything is not enough and other times, when I have nothing,
I have everything I need.
