A Tale of Two Tables
This post will be a bit different than my previous ones: today, I’m going to tell you a story.
It’s a true story, regarding two table-related incidents that we’ve had over the last two days. We usually don’t have nearly such a high concentration of table-related incidents in our lives; as a result, the contrast between the two experiences was particularly stark.
A Tale of Faith
For a brief background, over the last month I have been very intentionally decluttering our home. My wife Christine and I never fully downsized our belongings after she moved in several years ago, and so it is that we have duplicates of many things, and other things that we just don’t use or need.
As a result, we set up a table in our front yard where we placed items that were useable and in good shape, but which we wanted to pass along to someone else who might want or need them more. Through this process, we’ve found new homes for things such as name-brand clothing, a microwave, toys and games that our son has outgrown, etc., etc. We also have a Little Free Library and a Little Free Pantry in our front yard, so we get a lot of foot and car traffic. The amount of food insecurity and economic inequity in our community is simultaneously heartbreaking and enraging, and we do what we can in different ways to be of service.
These items were initially on an old wooden table that we kept in our basement. It had a big crack down the middle, it wobbled, and if you ran your hand over the top you were liable to get a splinter or two. However, we knew we’d need the table to remain out there so that we could continue placing items on it instead of on the ground; as such, we had a sign on the table that said, “Free Stuff! Please Leave the Table.”
One day a few weeks ago, we returned home from running errands only to discover that the table was missing.
I’ll admit: I was irked. We had set so many items in our yard that were freely available to anyone who needed them. The only thing in our yard that was explicitly labeled as not being a donation was the table, and someone took it! WTF?!
I ended up bringing up another table from our basement to use for putting our donations on, but I remained a bit miffed that the first table had been taken.
Fast forward to this past Sunday. Christine was out working with a student in the gym, and I was inside enjoying a video chat with one of my longtime friends. There was a loud knock on the door, and I went to see who it was.
Outside, there was a very kind looking man who was a little older than I am. He sheepishly said that he was a furniture restorer, and he was so touched to see our generosity that he had taken our table a few weeks ago to restore it. He said he wanted to maintain its integrity as a worn antique, but that he repaired the crack down the center of the table, leveled everything, and refinished it. He went to his truck, and returned with the table!
It was undeniably the one I had set out, with some of the same marks and all of the character, but without the risk of splinters! And it didn’t wobble anymore! And it was BEAUTIFUL!
I felt gratitude and joy wash over me. I thanked him profusely, and he thanked us profusely in return for doing all that we do to take care of the community. I was nearly brought to tears of happiness. I had rushed to judgment when I saw that the table was missing, but now I couldn’t deny that the whole experience was a testament to the kindness that can imbue our lives in the most unexpected of ways.
We have decided to give this table a place of honor in our home: it has become a simple altar space in our living room, where it can remind us every day to not rush to judgment of others, to believe in the goodness within the world, and to continue taking part in the wonderful flow of giving, receiving, and sharing that is available when we build community and connection.
(To get your own copy of the print that’s in the frame, visit https://www.bebevaudou.com/home-living!)
A Tale of Adjudication
So, all of that happened on Sunday, two days ago.
Yesterday (Monday), I had a very different experience relative to our front yard donation table.
As I mentioned, after our first table had been taken by the generous restorer of furniture we replaced it with another cheap table from our basement, and we continued to keep it loaded up with the items we had collected to donate to anyone who could make use of them.
In yesterday’s mail, I received a notification from the code enforcement division of the town we live in. Someone had apparently reported us for keeping “refuse” that had “create[d] an unsightly appearance or unreasonably disturb[ed] the comfort and repose of the neighborhood,” and that we needed to comply by removing the donation table. Included with the notice of violation was a picture that had been taken of our donation table.
Now, keep in mind that the donation table was 1. clearly labeled as items that were available to anyone in need, and 2. only set up for the handful of weeks in which I am most active in the decluttering process. I have continued to post the most essential items in our community’s mutual aid groups on Facebook, and was only supplementing that process with the tables in front due to how much stuff we have to donate.
And in regards to things that unreasonably disturb the comfort and repose of neighborhoods? I gotta tell ya: economic injustice, hunger, poverty, and the absence of generosity do a lot more to disturb me than a yard with an “unsightly appearance.”
And mutual aid and generosity do more to restore a sense of comfort and repose than a manicured lawn ever could.
Insights from the Juxtaposition of the Two Tales
The fact that these two profoundly disparate responses to our donation table happened in such a short period of time brought some insights into my mind.
One person responded by being inspired, and put their inspiration into action by performing an act of deep thoughtfulness and generosity.
Another person responded by seeing an eyesore that needed to be eradicated.
In response to the first person, I had to examine my own initial reaction to seeing that the table was taken: what I thought had been a theft had in actuality been a gift.
In response to the second person, I felt the twinge of sadness at removing my second donation table from the curb. I will simply be posting more things to our community’s mutual aid groups; my generosity will not end.
And I will use this experience as a reminder to always do my best to respond to situations with generosity of action and spirit, rather than with judgment and punitiveness.
