Junk Man's Daughter

Every year at the annual Christmas party for the extended Lubbers family, my Aunt Mary gives each of her great-nieces and great-nephews a gift. She spends hours perusing the book stores for just the right copy of a Caldacott Award winning book or a unique game or puzzle. She keeps lists from year to year to remind herself what she has given to each child. (There are twenty of them after all.) We always look forward to seeing what she has lovingly and painstakingly chosen.

A few years ago, Aunt Mary gave Grace a book we weren't familiar with before. It's a beautiful picture book about an immigrant family who comes to America and does not find the expected streets of gold. As times get even more difficult for them, the father contemplates returning to the old country. But one day the family makes an unexpected discovery on the way to school. In the snow they find glass bottles that they bring home and resell. Each day thereafter, they gather things that others have discarded, bring them home, sort them and resell them. The title of the book is, "Junk Man's Daughter".

This book has taken on a rather personal meaning for me. I have come to recognize that my dad is a junk man and I am indeed his daughter. I find myself stopping along the side of the road to retrieve discarded refundable cans just as he did years ago. (One Sunday morning on the way to church we pulled over so Micah, dressed in his Sunday finest, could hop out and pick up three empty beer bottles.) Another of dad's hobbies is to recycle any steel, copper and aluminum that he can find. For a while after his accident a couple years ago dad did several "clean-outs" for a property manager. These quickly became a family affair. Dad and mom would load up his truck with stuff left behind at the property and bring it home to sort, much like the family in the picture book. I loved getting calls that they had another clean-out and I was invited over to search through the piles for hidden treasures. The kids loved these calls too because it meant they could usually find some "new-to-them" treasure toy at Grandma's Jolly Junk Store as they called her garage. They were always as thrilled with these left-behind treasures as they were with brand new Christmas gifts.

As we sorted through the piles of discarded items we made piles of clothes to wash and donate, metal dad could recycle for a bit of extra gas money and items I could list on CraigsList to resell. We loved the challenge of fixing and cleaning neglected, forsaken items and turning them into just the thing someone else was searching for. Anything we could keep out of the landfill was good. And if we could earn a little bit in the process to set aside for something special, even better.

Well, the clean-out stage is behind us with dad's physical limitations now. However, the thrill of the hunt hasn't completely disappeared. Just last week I got a call that dad had found some folding chairs discarded on the side of the road. Would I like to list them on CraigsList? You bet! I remembered the lady who was so excited about the extremely vintage dresser that would go perfectly in the old farmhouse she had just purchased. I knew there would be someone else thrilled to find cheap folding chairs for their upcoming Christmas party or college apartment. (Living so close to much of GVSU's student housing has its definate advantage. College kids are always looking for a good deal.)

So, I am the junk man's daughter. We're too Dutch to waste things that may serve a purpose. And since my hard-working husband hasn't had a raise in four years we love setting aside the little extra that God sends our way in unique measures, be it returnable bottles along the roadside or discarded folding chairs. This is how we have been able to fund family vacations the past few years. So maybe I do have a hobby after all. Taking other peoples trash and trying to turn it into treasure while having some family fun along the way.