My husband and I are addicted to garage saling! We love our Saturday morning jaunts searching for the crudely written signs— indicators of a household purge that just might have a treasure to our liking! The truth is, a majority of the decorative items in our home have been discovered and purchased at garage sales: antique side tables, living room chairs, outdoor glass picnic table set, an antique petit point needlework that hangs over our bed, a chenille bedspread on our guest bed and colorful stained glass lamps that brighten rooms throughout our home—each and every item discovered and acquired at a garage sale for a fraction of its original cost. We have come to love giving rebirth to something another wants to get rid of.
This summer’s ongoing COVID restrictions and concerns have challenged even the ardent garage saler. The fact that most sales are outdoors is a plus. But the need to wear a mask and stay 6 feet apart while bartering and paying complicates a bit. Still, as one of only a few forms of entertainment for these summer months, we felt that we better pursue before the sale season ended. Grabbing drive thru coffees and cash from our bank’s ATM, our search began. Within a matter of blocks from our home, our eyes focused on the prize—an entire neighborhood garage sale! We masked up for the hunt, my purse slung body style to keep arms free, enabling me to explore freely.
One particular house looked well picked over. It was the home of an older couple, the styles and decor more intriguing to my tastes than those of the younger generation. I very quickly let my eye fall on a beautiful pewter salt and pepper and candle snuffer, each marked $1. I love pewter and could not beat the price. Scanning the rather empty garage for more treasures, my eyes fell on the garage floor, behind the checkout table. “Is the doll house for sale?” I queried, always a sucker for delightful miniatures?
As the grandmother of four little girls—(excuse me, young women)— my love of miniatures has only increased with the passing of time. I am now striving to ignite my passion within any one or two of my granddaughters. I have well loved treasures to pass on, many of them built and electrified by my husband.
This dollhouse, however, was unique. It had obviously been well worn and well loved for many years. “Well, it could be.” The woman seemed surprised by my question. “I really just want to find a home for it.” Her voice was warm, but hesitant, as if she was deep in thought, pondering each word spoken. “My father made it for me over 50 years ago. It has been passed on to my children and grandchildren, the dog and cat made a home in it for awhile, it was stored and rejected and now I just need to get rid of it to the right home. I’d love to have someone have it that will appreciate and enjoy it.”
I listened with intrigue. Her heartwarming story and the sorry state of a beautifully constructed treasure set off all sorts of bells in my head. What potential! What fun it could be to bring it back to life. Might we even go further to decorate the walls with paper and electrify it? Now I had to call myself up short. Where on earth would we put this item to accomplish this resurrection? And where would it go when all was said and done. We certainly did not need another dollhouse in our well loved, sized down haven.
“Well, I AM interested a bit,’ I mused. “I am a lover of miniatures and I have four granddaughters. What would you want for it?”
“Oh, I don’t know—$5 or $10, I guess.”
I was glad that my mask prevented by gum from falling out of my gaping mouth as I considered what she said. A lover of crafts who treasures another’s work of art and honors the hours spent to bring any created piece to life, I saw the price as pure gift. Her Father had made it. That would have taken weeks, if not months, of time. It had been well loved and had obviously brought hours of joy to many. Still, a miracle would be required to bring it back to life. And at this point, she simply wanted to get it out of her garage.
Strolling to the end of the driveway I removed my mask as I phoned my daughter, Meg (mother of our four granddaughters) to process further. Would she be even interested in housing the treasure once the miracle of recreation had occurred. Meg, my youngest had never enjoyed creativity as much as her mother. Now with a very busy household she was even more committed to “NO FROO FROO! “ (Definition of FROO FROO: any dust collecting item or surface that is not required for survival)
Meghan listened with amusement when she heard that we were garage saling—all the while trying to prevent me from hearing the urgent pleas of her husband in the background calling, “No, we don’t need one of those! We have several!!”
I talked Meg through the potential of what I thought could be a very memorable treasure. My husband, now in retirement, was always looking for a new project. He loved the idea of doing the renovation on this handyman special and imagined the valuable opportunities to work with the girls individually to decorate and design some of the rooms, once the structure had been resupported and strengthened. To our surprise, Meghan literally put the decision in our hands. “Well, if Dad would like to have a project…sure, go for it! We can get rid of one of the plastic ones we have in the basement.” My stomach gently queezed at the comparison of a hand-made treasure to the plastic Barbie houses that young girls have delighted in. In my book there was NO comparison!
That was all I needed. Time to consummate the sale. All she wanted was $5, maybe $10! Embarrassed, I bartered with a counter offer of $8 for the doll house, feeling shame to even suggest such a low price. She countered, knowing of my interest in the pewter. “Let’s make it simple. $10 for the pewter and the dollhouse.” I felt that I had just received a very, very special gift.
With abundant gratitude and promises to stay in touch with pictures of construction process, we brought the fragile structure home. Delightfully, I assessed the creative juices already flowing in my husband. “I think I would like to bring the structure upstairs to work on. There would be great light and we could leave the project up for awhile as we work on it over the coming weeks.”
It had been a very productive, nurturing day. This momentary interlude into the creative and the redemptive significantly refreshed my spirit. The truth is that these COVID 19 emotionally malnourished weeks of stress and concern have taken their toll on many aspects of my life.
Perhaps you are feeling the same, struggling to stay on top of despair and fear. Some of us have lost loved ones or felt challenges to our own health. Other’s have lost jobs and savings. Many wonder how they can make it through this summer without significant help. We can easily feel like a diminished, worn out piece of art hidden in the darkest part of our garages, just taking up space.
If we were not spiritual beings, that may very well be where we could end up. But Spirit we have and I believe that our Creator, God, knows our frame completely. It was His hand that created us for a reason— to accomplish a specific task for His honor and glory. He gave us all the tools that we would need to accomplish that task.
Then life happens. We feel battle worn, we are falling apart and we feel incapable of even discerning, let alone fulfilling our God given potential.
Our great Creator, God, never loses sight of the image of all we were created to be. He longs to bring about the miracle of recreation in our lives to make us wholly useful for His honor and glory. Nothing can stand in the way: No COVID 19, no hurricane, no financial crisis, no sin, no life mistake, no lost job, no wrong choice, NOTHING can stand in the way, if we choose to let the Master do HIS work in our lives.
It was a simple purchase of less than $10 at a garage sale. But the lessons it offered nourished my spirit as little else possibly could. And for that I am grateful to my Master Creator!