Better a dry crust with peace and quiet
than a house full of feasting, with strife.
Even with the help of a kind-hearted friend, I was wiped out at the end of yard sale day.
They’d plow through the neat piles of clothes labeled with yellow sticky notes that listed the size and price. What size is this? They’d yell across the driveway. How much is this? I’d say, It’s on the label. Oh, they’d yell. Is this negotiable?
We were charging two dollars for a pair of Levi’s with the tag still on. They’d try their best to lean on us to take one dollar.
It wasn’t the physical exertion, though that can really take a toll. No, it was the energy it took to deal with a few of the people who’d left their manners at home, along with their wallets, apparently. One woman said, Oh, I forgot my purse at home. All I have is fifty cents for this scarf. Will you take it?
The first time I heard that one, I didn’t realize it was a technique to get a better deal. At the same yard sale, a man said he’d forgotten his money clip.
While nobody expects to get rich from the proceeds of a yard sale, I really didn’t expect to feel depleted at the end of the day. My friend had really done all the work, but just being there was wearing.
Why is it that the slightest hint of getting a deal brings out the worst in us?
It was the first – and only – time I’d ever participated in the block yard sale. Ever since then, I’ve reminded myself to consider this when I accept an invitation or take on an obligation: How will it make me feel? Do I really want to do this? Is it worth it?
That soul-draining day taught me something. If you don’t safeguard your own peace of mind, somebody will try to put a pricetag on it. Check your back for sticky notes, use the good sense God gave you, and keep on moving.