Lately I've been feeling very dissatisfied with my little house. A and J and I live in a small, unrenovated, unenhanced 3 bed 1-1/2 bath colonial. We have lived in this house for 11 years, and we haven't replaced the carpeting, haven't repainted the walls, haven't redone the kitchen or bathrooms, haven't built an addition. Let's just say we aren't keeping up with the neighbors.
Now granted, when we moved in, we were increasing our space by 100 percent. But now, 11 years later, that much larger space feels kind of small.
So I've been feeling dissatisfied.
Last night, I attended a dinner, and the speaker was from a local agency that provides clothing, household goods, and the like to homeless families around Boston. They are a very grass-roots operation that literally takes the donations, sorts them by size, receives a call from a shelter, pulls the items that the family needs and takes them to the shelter. Right then and there.
Listening to the speakers talk about homeless families, and how all they want is a place of their own -- a bed, a stove, some dishes, some clothing -- and to be together, I felt very humbled. Yes, I may want more, but there are many who have nothing. It was a good reminder.