One Woman's Trash is Another Woman's Treasure

Many years ago  my first job was with the public health department. Back in those days, besides dodging dinosaurs, we worked with VISTA volunteers.

I became friends with one(a volunteer, not a dinosaur).Her name was Jenny, and her parents were first generation over from Czechoslovakia. But she had never lived anywhere except the wide open spaces of Texas.

Needless to say, living here in the North Georgia Mountains was a huge change for her. She froze half to death when fall arrived, and she was plumb pitiful when winter got here.

I was with her the first time she saw snow. What a treat that was! We both ran outside (in a very professional  manner, of course) and stood in the parking lot. Her face was turned to the sky, her hands were held out as though receiving a blessing, and her smile was as wide as those Texas spaces she missed.

After some time, she confided in me that the mountains I loved were smothering her. "Everywhere I turn, all I can see are mountains. There is no space, my vision is stopped no matter which way I turn."

Huh. I had been to Texas once, and saw all that space she missed. It seemed void, vacant, lonely, empty. How could she miss that and feel uncomfortable within the confines of my majestic, protective mountains?

But as I have aged a little bit (shut up), I have seen how different we creatures can be from one another. One person loves dogs, another would rather die than touch a  dog.

One person loves chintz and organza, another steel and glass.

One loves the water, the other fears it.

The one common denominator we all have is the empty hole in ourselves that can only be filled by God. Many search other places for it, and many deny its existence.

But it's there, my friend, it's there.

I think the longing we feel sometimes is for the Home we are missing. The Home we were meant for, but messed up.

Thank God we've been given a second chance.