Eye-opening

I think everyone has those eye-opening moments sometimes in life.

One of mine occurred today.

When we are in "pinching pennies" mode I'm always a little annoyed. I won't lie. Mostly because we have to do it to help financially support family outside of our little 4 person nuclear family, and sometimes that annoys me. I admit it, even if it makes a terrible person.

We've been in this "pinching pennies" mode since July.

And today I was reminded once again just how freaking good we have it. For us, cutting back means we don't go to the bakery down the block every week. Our Starbucks consumption is reserved for Wednesday story times only (unless things get really desperate, and then we splurge). The kids just had growth spurts and I bought them quite a few things new, but then I finished up their wardrobe at Goodwill. We check out a lot more books at the library as opposed to buying them. The cut backs are minor. They're things a lot of people would probably do regardless.

The only big one was the we had to forgo our family vacation. Which peeved me.

But a lot of people don't even get a family vacation, and we did go on other "vacations" - just not one with the four of us, no one else, and not visiting family.

I have no room to complain, truly.

Anyway, to my point.

The kids chose angel cards off the Salvation Army tree to buy another child a Christmas, because I want to help teach them the true meaning of Christmas. I took the kids shopping to purchase gifts for the kids this morning. I was feelings a little ungrateful that I hadn't been able to buy these two kids as nice of a Christmas as we had been able to buy last year. I felt a bit inadequate.

When I rushed the sacks of toys and clothes into the Salvation Army this afternoon, I got a hit-me-in-the-heart moment.

There was a lady there who was picking up donated gifts for her child(ren). One of the volunteers wheeled out a purple training bike and the lady cried. It was immediate. Her whole face lit up and she just kept repeating, "Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I can't believe it. Oh, my God. Thank you!" Her tears and gratitude where so genuine it nearly knocked the wind out of me.

J grew up in poverty. My family was "poor" by all accounts until I was a teenager (free lunches, Headstart, the whole shebang). I never felt poor though.

And now. Well, now we're certainly doing okay. Even when we're pinching. We're totally okay. Even if we don't always love it.

I almost cried with that lady today.

I cannot even imagine what it is like to not be able to buy your child a bike if she wants/needs it. Our kids would certainly have less stuff if it weren't for such awesome family and friends, but they certainly wouldn't want for much, if anything.

I am so grateful to have such a hardworking, honest husband who puts our children and myself before him. Always. I am so grateful to have a beautiful house that I can lament painting and cleaning and decorating. I am so grateful that my beautiful children have a playroom full of toys that I can bitch about picking up. I am so grateful to have the means to feed my family real, whole foods. I am so grateful for everything that we have, including our friends and family, who are always so willing to help in whatever way is needed - even if it's just an ear to listen or to give a bit of random advice when needed.

I'm grateful.

Because not everyone has these things. Not everyone is in a situation where it's even ever going to be attainable. And sure, perhaps not everyone wants these things either. But for those who do, and can't, my heart is heavy.

And to whomever bought that lady's little girl a bike this year, you truly are amazing. Because you will never know the tears and delight it brought to that momma. And truthfully, that just might be better than the happiness it brings to that little girl on Christmas morning. Because now her momma has a little hope and can keep on trekking, knowing that there are people who care out there. And there are people who want to help when they can. And that she and her child matter.

At the end of the day, that's all we need anyway. A little hope, and the knowledge that we truly matter.