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We have kind of a family joke in my house in Canada...anything ugly or obviously hand-made with very little skill, and someone invariably asks, “The little blind Nun make that?” My mom, who’s usually close at hand, just smiles and nods.
See, my mom used to go to these Foster Parent Association meetings at a convent somewhere in southern Saskatchewan. At that convent there lived a little...and mostly blind...nun who made things to sell to raise money for the convent. My mother, being who she is, got suckered into buying some of the funniest...and ugliest...handcrafted items currently available anywhere on the planet. I think my favourite was a plastic margarine lid...covered with some fairly horrendous fabric and lace...with a plastic toy deer and a plastic evergreen tree hot-glued to it.
I think it was supposed to be a Christmas ornament of some sort (maybe the evergreen tree?). And my mother, again being who she is, didn’t just throw it away as soon as she got home and out of sight of the little, blind nun (who, let’s be honest, wouldn’t have noticed if she’d tossed it the moment she bought it...you know...being blind and all). Nope, my mother dutifully placed that “Christmas ornament” out every Christmas I can remember. For all I know it’s probably still waiting to be carefully unwrapped (although for the life of me I can’t imagine how you damage the thing) and put out on display for the enjoyment of friends and family.
Why do I mention this piece of family history that doesn’t seem to have much to do with life in Bolivia? Well...here’s the thing. I seem to have inherited my mother’s ability to be suckered into buying random things from the proverbial “little, blind nun”.
I’ve learned to just try and stare straight ahead when asked to buy something that I don’t (or will ever) need, and to just say no. I don’t know if that ever actually worked for those who were trying to say no to drugs. All I know is, it sure as heck doesn’t work for me.
For example...last Friday I became the proud owner of a leather key chain..ie. a piece of old maybe some sort of leather-ish type material attached to a metal key ring. It likely cost the equivalent of two cents to make and was probably normally sold by the kid for twenty cents. I, on the other hand, paid his suggested price of three dollars. That would be almost fifteen times the going rate. Well, actually not almost fifteen times the going rate, exactly fifteen times the going rate. The kid promptly packed up shop and went home for the day. He’d made his daily quota of key chain sales off one slightly soft in the head gringo.
To be clear...I didn’t actually go to him to buy that “key chain”. He came to me in a restaurant while I was eating. I want to make sure everyone understands I don’t go looking for opportunities to buy stuff I don’t (or will ever) need for fifteen times the going rate. I’m also the proud owner of two pirated (but of course, I was assured, DVD quality) movies that, if you squint and ignore the guy who keeps standing up in front of the other guy who’s videotaping the movie in some random (probably Canadian) theatre...you can kind of follow what’s going on. In my defence, the kid was cute...and a darn good salesman. He also came to my table in a restaurant.
On Saturday I ended up buying a CD from a guy of pretty much every Spanish Christian song ever written. It’s truly amazing how many songs can fit on one CD. Now if only it would work in the CD player in my truck. That guy knows me on sight (he works the place where I get my truck washed). I’m not at the car wash two minutes and he’s at my window with every Christian CD he has available.
I also have a little hand made...purse maybe? And an assortment of bracelets and necklaces I’ll never...ever...wear. Oh and a little bag of what I was told is some sort of medical tea to fix whatever ails you. Don’t worry...it’s not drugs. Well...at least as far as I know it's not drugs. I’m not about to drink it and find out.
The worst moment was when I went to the annual Christmas fair all the children’s homes put on every year, with things they’ve made to sell. Yea...I’ve never gone back. I appreciate the idea, but seriously, how many funny home-made items can my family really use for Christmas presents.
I did make one purchase I like though. I bought a Quechua bow and arrow set from a little old lady in the parking lot of our local market. It’s kind of cool, even though I’m pretty sure it’s not exactly what one would consider an accurate copy.
Oh well. I just tell myself that I’m doing my part to further the Bolivian economy. And I guess the main reason my mom bought all that stuff from the little, blind nun, is the same reason I end up buying all this stuff. It’s simple compassion, really. I’ve said this before, and I’m sure I’ll say it again...I don’t want to let myself become hardened to people’s needs and pain here. Trust me, it’s easy to do...those needs and that pain is everywhere. I understand I can’t say yes to every person out there who tries to sell me whatever funny little thing they have for sale. But at the same time, I want to have a heart that doesn’t automatically dismiss them.
That “leather” key chain? One of the guys saw it on my desk and asked where I got it. He laughed himself silly when I told him. So then I told him he could have it and he laughed some more. But then yesterday I saw his keys and...there it was. Ha ha...I’m sharing the love.
My mom would be so proud...
We have kind of a family joke in my house in Canada...anything ugly or obviously hand-made with very little skill, and someone invariably asks, “The little blind Nun make that?” My mom, who’s usually close at hand, just smiles and nods.
See, my mom used to go to these Foster Parent Association meetings at a convent somewhere in southern Saskatchewan. At that convent there lived a little...and mostly blind...nun who made things to sell to raise money for the convent. My mother, being who she is, got suckered into buying some of the funniest...and ugliest...handcrafted items currently available anywhere on the planet. I think my favourite was a plastic margarine lid...covered with some fairly horrendous fabric and lace...with a plastic toy deer and a plastic evergreen tree hot-glued to it.
I think it was supposed to be a Christmas ornament of some sort (maybe the evergreen tree?). And my mother, again being who she is, didn’t just throw it away as soon as she got home and out of sight of the little, blind nun (who, let’s be honest, wouldn’t have noticed if she’d tossed it the moment she bought it...you know...being blind and all). Nope, my mother dutifully placed that “Christmas ornament” out every Christmas I can remember. For all I know it’s probably still waiting to be carefully unwrapped (although for the life of me I can’t imagine how you damage the thing) and put out on display for the enjoyment of friends and family.
Why do I mention this piece of family history that doesn’t seem to have much to do with life in Bolivia? Well...here’s the thing. I seem to have inherited my mother’s ability to be suckered into buying random things from the proverbial “little, blind nun”.
I’ve learned to just try and stare straight ahead when asked to buy something that I don’t (or will ever) need, and to just say no. I don’t know if that ever actually worked for those who were trying to say no to drugs. All I know is, it sure as heck doesn’t work for me.
For example...last Friday I became the proud owner of a leather key chain..ie. a piece of old maybe some sort of leather-ish type material attached to a metal key ring. It likely cost the equivalent of two cents to make and was probably normally sold by the kid for twenty cents. I, on the other hand, paid his suggested price of three dollars. That would be almost fifteen times the going rate. Well, actually not almost fifteen times the going rate, exactly fifteen times the going rate. The kid promptly packed up shop and went home for the day. He’d made his daily quota of key chain sales off one slightly soft in the head gringo.
To be clear...I didn’t actually go to him to buy that “key chain”. He came to me in a restaurant while I was eating. I want to make sure everyone understands I don’t go looking for opportunities to buy stuff I don’t (or will ever) need for fifteen times the going rate. I’m also the proud owner of two pirated (but of course, I was assured, DVD quality) movies that, if you squint and ignore the guy who keeps standing up in front of the other guy who’s videotaping the movie in some random (probably Canadian) theatre...you can kind of follow what’s going on. In my defence, the kid was cute...and a darn good salesman. He also came to my table in a restaurant.
On Saturday I ended up buying a CD from a guy of pretty much every Spanish Christian song ever written. It’s truly amazing how many songs can fit on one CD. Now if only it would work in the CD player in my truck. That guy knows me on sight (he works the place where I get my truck washed). I’m not at the car wash two minutes and he’s at my window with every Christian CD he has available.
I also have a little hand made...purse maybe? And an assortment of bracelets and necklaces I’ll never...ever...wear. Oh and a little bag of what I was told is some sort of medical tea to fix whatever ails you. Don’t worry...it’s not drugs. Well...at least as far as I know it's not drugs. I’m not about to drink it and find out.
The worst moment was when I went to the annual Christmas fair all the children’s homes put on every year, with things they’ve made to sell. Yea...I’ve never gone back. I appreciate the idea, but seriously, how many funny home-made items can my family really use for Christmas presents.
I did make one purchase I like though. I bought a Quechua bow and arrow set from a little old lady in the parking lot of our local market. It’s kind of cool, even though I’m pretty sure it’s not exactly what one would consider an accurate copy.
Oh well. I just tell myself that I’m doing my part to further the Bolivian economy. And I guess the main reason my mom bought all that stuff from the little, blind nun, is the same reason I end up buying all this stuff. It’s simple compassion, really. I’ve said this before, and I’m sure I’ll say it again...I don’t want to let myself become hardened to people’s needs and pain here. Trust me, it’s easy to do...those needs and that pain is everywhere. I understand I can’t say yes to every person out there who tries to sell me whatever funny little thing they have for sale. But at the same time, I want to have a heart that doesn’t automatically dismiss them.
That “leather” key chain? One of the guys saw it on my desk and asked where I got it. He laughed himself silly when I told him. So then I told him he could have it and he laughed some more. But then yesterday I saw his keys and...there it was. Ha ha...I’m sharing the love.
My mom would be so proud...
2 comments:
The lesson is not so much the benefit to those in need (like widows and orphans, and of course, nearly blind nuns) but it's more who we are when we help them. There is always a benefit when we help someone - no doubt, but I would guess that your mom kept the ornament around to remind herself and all of you of the blind nun - to think about her and pray for her - and to remind all of you for the next time that you see someone who needs you.
When I was about eight or nine, my sister and I bought my mom some orange plastic flowers - from your description they might not be the tackiest things on the planet, but they are close - and I've told her repeatedly that she can throw them out...think she does? I have now received my own plastic flowers from my daughters, and I can't see throwing them out either.
I'm sure your mom would be proud of you. Good heart, Ken.
Thanks Nadine! I also have a drawer full of bracelets that the little guys from the first boys home I worked at, made for me. I can't bring myself to throw them away either...even though I don't even remember who gave me what at this point. But still... =)
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