Shelly, a man from my church, is letting me use his house for my yard sale this weekend. He’s moving out, and when I first showed up to start unloading people’s donations, my mom and I took a quick tour of the empty rooms. It’s an old person house, for sure. Lots of carpeting, small rooms, individual fix-its. I fell in love immediately.
“Look! The sink is in the corner,” I breathed. My mom nodded in agreement. Yes, the kitchen sink was in the corner.
Then she laughed. “There’s a toilet back here! With just a curtain. I think I’d rather have a door.”
With the unthinking ferocity of the newly obsessed, I insisted, “No, this makes perfect sense. When you have to, like, go to the bathroom really badly, you don’t have to deal with….doors.”
We moved on, and with every room, I fell more in love. It is an extremely small house with surprisingly roomy closets. With custom-made shelves, always a weakness of mine. Outside was even cuter, with lots of trees and landscaped flowerbeds.
“Mom, I love this house. I love this house. I want it. Will you buy it for me?”
My mom side-eyed me pretty hard. “Tricia. You’re moving to Greece in four months.”
“Yes, but. After that?”
“I guess you could just tell people that you’re taking the money they’re donating and using it to buy a house instead!”
“Psyche!” I laughed. Then I considered this. Could I convince everyone that their thousands of dollars were better spent buying me a house rather than enabling me to teach and befriend women who have been sexually trafficked? ….Probably not.
We went back to loading the garage with donated goods and planning the yard sale.
The next day we were back. Continue reading