I toss perfectly good things in the trash instead of giving them to those in need 😌😏 Sounds heartless? 🤔😒 The reason isn’t what you think 🤔🙊 Let’s talk about it in the article below 👇
Two years ago I decided to sell a dress that my daughter wore only once to a school party. Then she grew up sharply and the dress became too small for her. The price was symbolic.
A woman called, said she’d be here soon. Wait for her. I waited at home for six hours. Finally, the doorbell rang.
A woman, a girl and their grandmother came in.
– Can I try it on?
– Yes, of course.
While the girl tried on the dress and the mother watched, the grandmother asked if she could use the restroom. I pointed her in the direction of the bathroom. I couldn’t say no, could I?
I remember when we showed the apartment for sale, every other buyer had to go to the toilet.
I hear my grandmother go to the kitchen after she’d gone to the bathroom. I think they’ll give me the money, say goodbye and leave. But they don’t leave. Grandma starts opening the kitchen cabinets. She’s 55 years old, her daughter is 30, the girl is 10.
– Do you want some? – I ask.
Mom gives me the bill, I want to close the door. But then grandma starts looking at everything in the hall. “What is this statue? And what’s that rug? And the books? Can I see them?”
I say I’m in a hurry.
They leave.
This incident was the last straw, after which I decided not to sell or give away anything else.
Before that, there was a case with a low-income family who accepted things, but then with a snide grin told me that things are cheap, and their neighbors give them Lacoste.
I also remember: the woman took the dress as a donation, thought I had already closed the door, stands by the elevator, calls her husband and says that as long as there are round fools, she will look good. Let them buy and spend the money and she will wear it.
These instances have pushed me away from philanthropy.
In the 90’s and early noughties, my sister and I used to catch up on things from my cousins, more affluent neighbors, my brother’s rich friends. We washed it, ironed it, wore it, and enjoyed it.
Now I have a rule: buy only what will be worn. In small quantities. All things should fit in two or three bags. If there are more, it means that among them there are unloved and uncomfortable. Money wasted.
Things to which the hand does not reach, go to rags. Wiped, washed and thrown away without washing or drying. Convenient.
Many times I’ve heard from my friends, “I only wear 10% of what I keep in my closet.” “I have to take a day, wash everything, iron it, take pictures and put it on sale.” “In two years, only two sales, many people ask me to donate things, still not sold.”
I do not need to dance with things like that. It’s a waste of time.
I’m learning from the Japanese to do with little.
