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In a restaurant, crumbs on the table tell you that it hasn’t been wiped clean since the last customers sat there. It could indicate that the staff may be so overworked and underpaid that they’re cutting corners, trying just to get through the day. It might also give you second-hand insight into the state of the kitchen, where people you don’t know are alone with your food. All of that energy is going into the entrée that ends up on your plate in front of you.

At home, crumbs on the counter tell you that whomever you share your space with (spouse, kids, roommate) isn’t considerate enough of your feelings to clear the space once they’ve used it.

As someone with MS, I can process exactly one (1) bit of information at a time, and when you crunch the numbers (crumb pun!) crumbs are dozens (12s? Twelveses?) of pieces of information in a small space. If data comes at you as a stream, crumbs are the tiny rocks causing ripples in that stream. Knocking over the tiny tugboat.

This may sound melodramatic, but my brain receives crumbs as agents of chaos, disrupting the order of life. Okay. That really DID sound melodramatic!

It may not bother you, but if someone you care about says it bothers them? Why not take that tiny step to make it right? It’s not too much to ask that you clean up after yourself if you share a space. Or turn the volume down if someone is studying. The Golden Rule isn’t some lofty ideal. It’s doing the right thing as a way of life. Being considerate in the small things is a big deal.

Have a Mary Little Christmas

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