True Recycling

Every spring I recall the time DH and I had 2 girls visit for a few days. They were strangers when they arrived, performing in a traveling international goodwill show. The custom was to find people in the community to open their homes and have the performers sleep over and eat your food. The local organizer had contacted me as they needed vegetarian hosts for some of the kids.

DH is by nature suspicious of any new ideas, and initially rankled at the thought. We had not been married too awfully long, however, and at that phase I was still able to exert a teensy bit of influence. He finally recanted and we invited the strangers into our home.

It was spring and our weeping cherry has never been prettier. All of Small Town USA was blooming and these girls acted as if they had never seen nature before. Now each year when the cherry tree blooms, I recall that visit and the changes it wrought.

One of the girls was from the faraway country of Colorado, age 19, and the other was from Switzerland, age 22. Our NDN also hosted 2 kids, a girl from Japan and a boy from Brazil.
I guess they stayed at the house for the better part of a week. One stayed in the room we kept for LO -- we did not yet have custody in those days -- and the other stayed in the guest room upstairs.

Some hosts take their kids to theme parks or whitewater rafting, but we chose to give them a simple life. They lived on the road and traveled from strange house to strange house for a year. It has to get unsettling after a while. So we pampered them, made email available, cooked up a storm. DH played guitar for them and I believe we had a bonfire in the backyard one night. If we didn't, we should have. I do remember a couple of fires in the fireplace. Anyway, we tried to be the calm, peaceful hosts.

The girls appreciated it so much.

The Colorado girl was a ski instructor and the Swiss girl was a teacher. Both attended college, and had taken a break for this experience; the Colorado girl was in undergrad and the Swiss girl was pursuing her Masters.

The last night of their stay, a tiny episode occurred that made a huge change in my life. Isn't that the way it always is? It's always the tiniest things that make the biggest impacts.

We were getting ready to go to their performance. I was wearing my Timberland boots, the pale suede ones that lace up. They sort of look like work boots. I was hurriedly tying them there in the kitchen, and one of the laces broke off in my hand. I probably said, "Damn!" and started un-lacing them to put on another pair of shoes. You see, I have been raised in this overconsuming, American way of life so that my only instinct was to park the boots until I bought more laces.
"Wait a minute," the Swiss girl said. She knelt in front of me and tied the broken portion back onto the part in my boot. She patiently re-wound the laces back around the posts and tied them. "There," she smiled.

I can still feel the warmth from the cartoon light bulb that appeared over my head. Her simple act opened up a totally new way of life for me. I still have those boots and they still have that mended lace in them.

Living responsibly is NOT about buying new things, even if they are hyped as being more environmentally sound. It is about using what you have until you can't use it any longer. Like caring tenderly for a decrepit old house. Like mending tears and holes. And yes, DH, like pulling the nails out of old boards you have removed while renovating, so that you can use them again. (I like to call that one Nail Hell.) Then, once you finally have to replace something, yes, you try to make a better choice on what materials to select.

I will never see our Swiss friend again, but here is a big cyberspace Thank You to her for illuminating me. You opened up a whole new world for me.

Postscript to the story. During the visit, DH had good quality time with each of the girls. He talked with them about their homes. He ran with the Swiss girl. She taught him about Peppermint Oil after a run to soothe those leg muscles. He shared his music and quiet times. Remember, this was 'way before all the grandbabies, we just had the one, and before either DIL. This sharing was all new territory for him. So on the fifth day we took the girls to their bus to travel to the next town. We loaded all their stuff, hugged good-bye, and waved til the bus was out of sight.

Walking to DH's truck, I was just sure I heard a big ol' SNIFF. Yep, he had a manly tear rolling down his manly face. I believe he had a light bulb that week, too.