An honest buck

ON A COLD, DAMP MORNING this fall I hosted a yard sale. It's a great way to get organized, but what I enjoy the most is participation in lighthearted neighborliness. It's also good to know that no-longer-useful items can benefit someone else for a very reasonable price. And I'm a pushover—most people who attend my sales know they can come and get a steal.

Apparently that's exactly what some patrons had in mind this time. After the mad rush of the first hour, I noticed that a whole box of items had simply walked off—a camera, a small vacuum, a bunch of replica antique cars.

"We've been ripped off!" I called up the front steps to my husband, "Do you believe it?"

"I should have been watching," he said. But how could he have kept an eye on dozens of customers while making numerous trips carrying boxes from inside? And it didn't stop there. Throughout the morning—right under my nose—purses, shoes, and more just disappeared.

I can't say I mourned the loss of that junk for long. But I wondered why this was happening this year. Was the sluggish economy causing more people to explore petty theft? Experienced retailers might think me naive to expect people not to steal—a yard sale is such an easy target. The truth is—I simply wasn't ready for the thieving. I was expecting honesty. And I felt sad and angry.

As I thought further, my prayer showed me that it's not enough just to expect people to be honest. More than that I need to stay alert, claiming the spiritual power that honesty holds, and tending to it every day.

Subtle dishonesties can creep into our lives any time—from keeping quiet when you get back too much change in the checkout line, to being tempted not to declare yardsale earnings on your taxes (rats!). Although dishonesty may seem inevitable, even insurmountable, I'm going to continue to look forward to truthfulness from myself—and others. I still feel that if we stay alert to what God expects from us—qualities of principle and truthfulness—we can expect honest encounters to come effortlessly, naturally.

There's a goal for my sale next fall.

Jewel Simmons

Senior Managing Editor, Production and Design

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE
Letters
letters
December 1, 2003
Contents

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit