My husband had a grandmother. Every summer, he would spend time at her house. She never minded; in those days, she ran her own business. She handled everything herself, supplying herbal remedies to chemists. My husband isnt quite sure how it all worked, but he remembers that, by the standards of the time, she earned a very good living. She was a woman with a rather unique character. She loved my husband dearly and never spared money when it came to food, but she refused to give him even a penny for little treats or outings. Everyone assumed she was saving up for something important. In her house, she had large wardrobes with several drawers and compartments, all of them securely locked.
As a child, my husband was always curious about what was inside, but his grandmother would simply tell him it was all for work. Later, times changed. Running your own business became commonplace, and competitors outpaced her. Thats when she started working as a healer. She never accepted money for her help, yet wealthy people from all over would come to see her. We used to visit her when she was alive. She lived in real poverty, dressed in old, worn clothes, and ate very modestly. We would bring her food, but she always declined, saying we shouldnt spoil hershe was used to living that way.
When she passed away, she left the house to my husband. When we came to sort out her affairs, we discovered her larder was filled with food, but all of it was long past its best. Apparently, grateful clients had brought it to her, but she never touched any of it. The real shock came when we unlocked her cupboards. There we found a treasure trove of valuable items from the ninetiesa veritable museum of rarities. Boxes and crates, all filled to the brim. Why did she keep her money tied up in things that would only lose their value? I simply cant make sense of her choices.
Yet, perhaps the real lesson is that what seems strange to us can make perfect sense from anothers point of view. We often judge others by what we treasure, not pausing to see value through their eyes. True wealth, it seems, is rarely measured by what we keep, but by what we choose to giveand how we live with what we have.
