I grew up poor but I never knew it. My mom told me a story once about writing a bad check just so she could get us home to our family for Christmas. We were below the ramen noodle budget.
She worked a lot and barely made ends meet, but I never went without. Well, perhaps I did go without a lot of things, but I didn’t realize that.
It wasn’t until I became a teenager that I realized how different our lives were when I was younger. It wasn’t until I was introduced to Nike and other name brand items that I became aware of worlds beyond Dollar General and Walmart.
What does that have to do with crying in Target?
My parents just bought a house. It’s the second home for each of them, but the first together. (Tom is actually my step-dad.) Mom and I went shopping on Saturday for items for their new home.
To the ordinary onlooker, buying a set of dishes shouldn’t be an emotional moment. Ah.. but this wasn’t ordinary. I’m 29 years old and my mom has never owned a matching set of dishes.
Throughout my life our house was filled with mismatched items. She did the best she could and I never knew the difference, until I got older anyway. Some people may say their ashamed of that. Me? It’s made me part of who I am today.
Being poor were some of the richest days of my life.
Why? Because iPhones didn’t get in the way. Email didn’t distract me from pursuing relationships. We had to get off the couch to actually turn the three available channels on the television. When I had the opportunity to get a moment alone with my mom, which didn’t happen often because she was trying to provide, distractions weren’t allowed.
What others thought of me didn’t get in the way, because I didn’t know any different. Garage sale clothes were a part of my life and I was completely okay with that. Still am.
I tried to hold back the tears in Target because I was so proud. Proud of how far my mom has come today. Proud of what God has done in her life. Proud that she finally believed she deserved a matching set of dishes. Proud that they are something neither of us will take for granted.
I love you, Mom. I’m proud of you. Thanks for letting me be a part of such a big opportunity that seemed so small to the world. I can’t wait to sit around the table, eat dinner on your new dishes, and celebrate a life we’re so blessed to live.
Can’t see through the tears to write much. Thank you for your touching words. I love you more than words can say. I am so proud of you.
beautiful…thanks for sharing ….it reminds me to be grateful for coming from humble beginnings , too
Glad you can use it as a reminder, Kasandra. Thanks for the encouragement.
I was blessed to read this. Can relate in several ways. ((hug))
Thanks Leah. Hugs back atcha.
Wow. I think back to my humble childhood and have some of the similar feelings… You should be darn proud. Shared this.
I am darn proud, glad you are too. Thanks for sharing the post.
It seems that every post I read of yours I realize how much we are alike. I grew up in similar circumstances. My dad deserted our family when I was 10 years old. My mom would go without so that we could have shoes. But God took care of us. I’m so proud of your awesome mom too. Bless her and bless you for loving on her too. blessings, Amy
Thanks Amy. I always love your encouragement.
Encouraging and thought-provoking!
Thanks, Tina. I appreciate you stopping by.
I would have cried too. That story makes me really happy.
Makes me happy that it made you happy