My parents went through the Great Depression and were very conservative. They told this story about their friend.
Mary Catherine invited us to an afternoon party. She knew we had a morning event that day and also an evening banquet. “Just bring your clothes along. You can change at my house,” she said. “Just go upstairs and use any room you want to,” she said when it was time to freshen up. Any room! Four doors stood open. Each one was a bedroom more beautiful than the one before. Another door opened into a large bathroom.
Mary Catherine had a dishwasher. They were still rare in private homes. And Mary Catherine’s carpet! She’s spent a whole year’s salary to carpet two (yes, two) rooms. Her husband had a good job, they lived on a large farm, so M.C.’s paycheck was cream. They traveled a lot and brought home fabulous souvenirs.
But mention children and Mary Catherine’s eyes filled with tears and her husband’s face would cloud up. We had two healthy, intelligent preschoolers. I never mentioned children after I learned their situation. This was back in the days when children were treasures from God, not something to prevent or abort.
It was obvious there was plenty of money around. M.C. told me once how her parents started on a shoestring and eventually were quite successful. One day it happened that we needed to stop at the parents’ home. It was an imposing structure but there was no parking along the street. Their driveway was behind the house, so we went through a paved alley to the drive. Thinking it would not be proper for me to go to the back door, I was following a cement walk toward the front when I came to a side door.
Why not use it? I rang the bell and while waiting for an answer, I made what seemed to me a strange observation: the door curtain was darned. Not once. Not twice. Several times.
Many evenings I darned socks, trying to keep the repairs smooth and even so little feet or big feet would not get blisters. Overalls were worthy of at least two patches – large ones to cover the front of each leg. A work shirt would rate a few patches. Any ripped hem deserved to be mended. Safety pins were a no-no if a button could be replaced. But darn the curtains? Well, maybe if the darn could be hidden by a fold. Not all of these darned could be covered in the folds.
I rang the bell again but no one came, so I went back to the car thinking about the darns. Back in the “shoestring” days darns had probably been a necessity. Now in more affluent times they were still practical. The old adage came to mind. A penny saved is a penny earned. Waste not, want not. We live in a throw-away age. It is easier to dispose than mend or reuse. The bread wrapper no longer wraps tomorrow’s sandwich or polishes the range top.
Like the lady who darned the door curtain, I find old habits hard to break. Bread wrappers are plastic, but a slightly used paper napkin can wipe a stove. A vacuum cleaner bag can do duty more than once. (At three for $1.89 I don’t find it too difficult to open the bottom carefully, shake the dirt into the trash, and tape it shut with masking tape.) The best casserole I ever made was a medley of leftovers.
The variety of second – even third – uses is endless, cheap, and often more interesting than first uses. Yes, the pennies still add up. And Galli-oomph bugs are still fun!
Mom would cut a salt box in half and stretch a rubber band through an empty thread spool. When the spool was wound tight and the “bug” was put on the floor it would move. A free toy.