The joy of recycled love

“‘Mom, not again! It’s missing an eye,’ I groaned as my 72-year-old mother chose a ratty teddy bear from the thrift store toy bin. ‘Why do you want that raggedy thing?’

“She beamed and put it in her cart. ‘One man’s trash is another woman’s treasure!’ she exclaimed, and not for the first time, mind you. My mother had been reciting that saying as far back as I could remember, whenever she found something nobody else would want. All I could do was sigh.

“One day I dropped by for a visit, and sitting on her porch was a box labeled Homeless Shelter. Inside, I could see a jacket she’d found at the church bazaar that had been coming apart at the seams but now was mended to look almost new. Old dusty dishes she’d collected were washed and gleaming, and that tattered old teddy bear now sported two black button eyes and had a new bright-red threaded smile.

“Seeing this box made my heart melt as I realized my mother’s old saying wasn’t just words, but a way for her to make a difference.

“You might say I became a pack rat after that and never tossed out anything broken or wellloved if I didn’t absolutely have to. Now I fix and recycle items, and I completely understand the reward

Mom gets from mending and donating them. Every time I do, I feel as if I’m making someone else’s life a little brighter— and that truly is a treasure!”