“It is not the man who has too little, but the man who craves more, that is poor.” ― Seneca the Younger
I appreciate this quote. Years ago, when I was a little kid, I loved to go with my dad to the Hamlin grain elevator. The elevator owners were brothers, Elmer and Frank. These two men were making their mark in the local grain market business and beyond. A shy little farm girl who loved "working" with her dad, Frank and Elmer made me feel welcome and important. They asked about school, and if I was taking good care of my calf Rose. Sometimes, my dad would buy each of us a bottle of pop or a candy bar. Those were big days. But what I remember on this particular day was the philosophical conversation going on among the gentlemen seated in a group by the candy bar machine. They were discussing the recent land purchase by a local farmer. "Why do you suppose he wanted that eighty?" Another added that the buyer must have mortgaged everything he had to buy that parcel of land. The gossipy group glanced at the brothers, Frank seated at the desk with a stub pencil and a ledger book. Leaning against the wall, Elmer was flipping through a farm magazine, pausing to look at a fertilizer ad. "So, boys, what do you think about all of this?" The candy bar jury waited to hear what judgement would be handed down by the brothers. Frank finished the ticket he was working on, then exchanged a glance with his brother.
"Do you know what it takes some men to be happy?” Elmer waited a second before answering his own question. “Just a little bit more”. Frank nodded. "Yes. Just a little bit more."
That stopped the talk, cold. You could almost hear the wheels turning in their heads as the group of farmers pondered this thought.
Amid a general nodding of heads, my dad and I went outside and climbed into the old grain truck. Rags were stuffed into a couple of holes underneath the glove compartment. A little muddy ice was frozen on the floor. The heater fan blew out some pieces of chewed up newspapers from an unseen mouse nest under the dash. The engine took a long time to warm up enough to put out much heat. Neither of us spoke for several miles, and then my dad told me this:“Carol, if you can be glad for what you’ve got, you will always be rich. Don’t go after a bunch of stuff you don’t need. Just like this old truck. It's not fancy, but it does the job.” I looked into the blue eyes of my dad, and tried to look wise-which I wasn't. But I understood what he meant, and I loved it when he took the time to explain life to me.
Years later my dad and I were talking over good memories. I asked him if he remembered that conversation. He did. "Frank and Elmer were good men. They worked hard, did their best and made that elevator a success, not only for themselves and their families, but for farmers and families in the area. I always had a lot of respect for them." I nodded. I did, too. They were men of honor and men of their word.
And then I thanked my dad for the lesson he taught me driving home that day in the old truck. Gratefulness is powerful. Hard work is honorable. Your word is your bond.
. . . Recently, I baked cinnamon rolls using the potato water saved from boiling potatoes for the mashed potatoes on the weekend. The extra starch in the potato water made for extra tender cinnamon rolls. I thought again about that long ago conversation about wanting a little bit more.Today, I know for sure that enough is plenty. Using my great-grandma's rolling pin, and my mother's flour sifter. I rolled out the springy roll dough on the bread board the church ladies gave me when I was married forty-six years ago. I could hear the voice of my aunt saying, “Now, not too much flour--Just enough.” She knew it, too.
When the rolls were baked, there were more than enough. I was able to share some of the cinnamon rolls with our immediate and extended family, gift some to a neighbor whose wife is in the hospital, and to share some with the guys who delivered a piano I am keeping for a friend. The cost of baking two dozen rolls, including the ingredients and the electricity, is approximately $3.80. That is less than the cost of a cup of coffee I enjoy at my favorite Topeka coffee shop.
Yep. Enough is enough. Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Elmer and Frank. Riches of thoughts, people, opportunities, experiences pour into life in the most unexpected and beautiful ways. Do your best with the resources at hand. The wealth of joy just keeps on rolling in.
Frank and Elmer what a great memory preserved and lesson shared.
The perfect reminder at the perfect time. Thank you!
Wonderful life perspective. Thank you for sharing!