I'll bet you didn't know I grew up rich. It's not something I brag about, and anyway - it's not as if my wealth had anything to do with my father's salary.
Here's the truth of it: I am a bona
fide baby boomer. One who spent my childhood fashioning cardboard
dollhouses, taking my protesting puppy
for rides in a doll carriage, and spending hours crafting my own paper
dolls. I knew the wealth of not having technology to think and play and
create for me - and how thankful I am for the luxury of those times. They helped, in ways
known to God alone, to form me into someone with a spark of creativity
in my bones. When I did sit in front of the black and white TV,
I found nothing to pollute my young mind. Loretta Young twirled
onscreen to present this week's half hour drama (always with a lesson).
Bishop Sheen taught things I didn't "get," but I liked it when an
unseen angel seemed to clean his blackboard. Bud learned again that
Father Knows Best.
I don't have to point out the fact that things have changed. Even those
much younger than I know this. Some even realize that society as a
whole has traded oh, so many riches for poverty. We probably all know just what I mean.
Still, we uncover wealth where we can.
God is with us, and by His amazing grace we can find Him. We who know
Him have a wondrous inheritance to pass along to our families.
With that in mind, I look around and
realize that I'm wealthier now than when I was a child. For one (main)
thing, I know God better. For another, earthly treasures are piled so
high that people can barely walk around in my
You should see it! The floors around here are littered with grandchildren's dolls and trucks and board
games and papers. And yes, money as well. "Dollar bills"
that we've colored and cut (more or less in rectangles) from
printer-paper. And such an abundance of food! Roundish paper cookies
my granddaughter Bunny made for her
collection of dolls.
Oh, and you should see the art on our walls; there is a virtual gallery covering doors and windows ... and well,
of course, the 'fridge.
I do not want to see my grandchildren deprived of the treasures that
have been my entitlement. Not when they have a grandma wealthy enough
to provide paper and crayons when they want tea-party cookies, a
cardboard box when they'd like a playhouse, a round coaster to serve as
the steering wheel for their (sofa) car.
I share less "simple" things with the grandchildren as well, of course,
as do their parents and other relatives and friends. But I would be
remiss if I hoarded my stash of boomer-treasures and refused to hand
Most importantly (it goes without saying), I'm privileged
to help pass along the incomparable treasure of shared prayer and casual
discussions of Christ's love.
In a world that seems to be sliding ever further from the wealth of
creativity, simplicity.... and most of all, truth and morality and integrity... I don't intend to
I intend to pay the Truth forward. I intend to pass it on.
Painting: Gerda Tirén-Brudföljet
This gently re-edited post was originally published in 2013. I am linking it up with Theology Is A Verb, where a group of Catholic bloggers re-post favorite articles
on “It’s Worth Revisiting” Wednesdays.