Discarded Treasure

Discarded Treasure
By Lana Wolfe

 One morning I woke and decided to stroll down to the local coffee house not far from me.  I thought I'd get a cup of wake me up and do some writing when I watched as a woman entered.  Her face was distraught and she appeared to be fighting back tears on her swollen face-not the way anyone should begin a Sunday morning.  She walked up to the line and peered up at the menu.  Quickly she tried to make her escape as tears fell down her cheeks.  I stuck out my arm and said, "Sit here."  I got her some coffee and we began talking.  She told me her story, one I've heard before.
 She was thrown out of her house by her boyfriend of five years.  It had been an abusive relationship from the start and she finally stood up to him.  She worked at a local store part-time.  At least she had a job, I told her.  The good thing about that was that her boss liked her and if she asked him to go full-time she felt she had a pretty good chance.  Still, she just had cashed her pay check and it came to two hundred seventy one bucks.  I asked her where she was staying.  Her grandmother who was out of town at the time said she could have the little house in the back but that it had been empty and she didn't even have a bed.
 This woman touched my heart and I felt the money in my purse that I had been saving for my rent at the business tug at me.  I said, "So what are your plans today?"
 "No plans cept to sit in my empty space.  Thank God there is that."
 I grabbed our near full coffee cups and said, "You are coming with me."
We began hitting the thrift stores in Fairfield and Suisun.  We must have hit them all- those that were open.  Several were closed because it was Sunday.  We got her a queen size bed with nicks on it, some plant stands, a futon couch, a working radio and knickknacks, one high style table with two chairs.  They needed mending to be sure, but she threw out the cliché, "Hey beggars can't be choosers."  She was a brave lady.
 My car, with the seats down, was filled and we couldn't get anymore into it.  So we drove back to my salon and with the leftovers I had from my salon's remodeling, I showed her how to turn crap into art.  We worked for hours and had pizza delivered then let it dry over night.  She would have to sleep on the floor one night. "I'll be okay," she assured me.  I gave her the left over pizza to snack on and she had the radio.
The next morning I brought my husband's truck and filled it up with our creations.   I knocked on the door and she looked much better than when I first saw her the day before.  We put the few things we had into place and I said, "Hey, let's go to the Canyon Cafe, my treat."  We repeated the same process as the day before, only this time picking up some nice dishes and tableware-all that kind of stuff.  Within days I had spent only two-hundred dollars and she spent about 65 because she had a few bills coming due.   We stopped there but her little place was already more than livable.  It was damn cute. 
I brought her some groceries, just a few things I thought I'd need if I were in her shoes and she sat there crying for the longest time-tears of relief.  I fixed us some coffee in her spiffy kitchenette and spoke to her about issues involving self esteem.  She told me how ashamed she was, that no man would ever want her.  She had been tossed out, used and abused.   I made her take a good look around her and describe the designs we did on the lampshades, the furniture, etc.   I asked, "Tell me what you see in this."
"Originality and beauty," she responded.
I told her, "That which you see, is what I see in you.  Remember, one person's discarded is another person's treasure.  You, my dear lady, are a treasure.  Give it time."
I am so grateful for that little coffee house and for the cash my clients had paid me that past week.  I'm even more grateful for the treasures others discarded.  The thrift stores were our supply.  We couldn't have done it without them.  So next time you find yourself in a problem situation, become proactive, get out, get help and dare to see the treasure in what others no longer value.  I'm so glad I did.  I'm so glad.