Mtr Mary Trainor

Money can't buy back your youth when you're old, or a friend when you're lonely, or a love that's grown cold…*

Dear friend,

As Thanksgiving Day approaches, memories are always close at hand. In fact, it’s going to be that way for me until we get through Christmas and into the new year.

Although I am always at risk for the form of sentimentality that brings a tear to the eye--like a good Hallmark movie--this year I am opting for memories that remind me of how rich I am.

On a cold Thanksgiving Day in a mountain pass region of Southern California some fifty years ago, it looked pretty certain that I would be spending the day alone.

That wasn’t the plan, but I was some sixty miles from my parents’ home, and my car wouldn’t start. A friend of mine who had been staying over had already left, en route to the same Thanksgiving dinner I was hoping to have.

This was long before mobile phones and, unable to reach her, I called my parents to say I wouldn’t  be there. Hanging up the phone, I sat down and sobbed.

The wealthiest person is a pauper at times compared to the man with a satisfied mind…

I wandered into my backyard, and looked into the small trailer court that was my rear neighbor. Specifically, I noticed that even Mr. Dickey had Thanksgiving plans: A whole chicken was rotating over a charcoal fire, and was smelling very good. In my self-pity and loneliness, I found myself envying Mr. Dickey, a man who disliked me and hated my dog; who threatened to call the police on us and swore to have Sheba hauled away. Even this man was going to have a nice Thanksgiving meal. And for a very brief moment I thought he was the richest man I knew.

***

In today’s Gospel lesson from Luke (16:10-17) Jesus warns us about the danger that money poses to our spiritual lives. In fact, he flat-out says we cannot give equal attention to God and money.

For me this means true wealth lays somewhere else. It doesn’t show on a bank statement, but shows in our actions toward the beloved of God, and the actions of them toward us.

But one thing's for certain, when it comes my time, I'll leave this old world with a satisfied mind.

A noise interrupted my brief envy of Mr. Dickey’s Thanksgiving plans. It was a knock on my front door. I ran to see who could possibly be visiting on a holiday.

Opening the door, I saw my friend Martha, who made a hurry-up motion with her hands: “If we’re going to make it to dinner, we’d best be on our way.”

She had reached my parents’ house, learned of my being stranded, got into the car and drove all the way back to fetch me. An added 120 miles to her day.

I then realized Mr. Dickey wasn’t the richest person that Thanksgiving Day. I was.

Mtr Mary

A Satisfied Mind, lyrics by Jack Rhodes and Red Hays.