Notes from a Rookie Firefighter...March 22, 2011

I am thankful for all that I have but like most people, it's a fleeting thought that passes in a moment of quiet prayer. Every once in a while though I need to reinforce being thankful for where I was and where I am now.

I visited the Market St. Mission Thrift Shop on Saturday afternoon. I feel like the place is full of alot of positive energy. The thrift shop's workers are mostly volunteers who were helped at the Mission and want to give back.

It's interesting to watch the people in action there. You can hear the older workers talk to the young boys about pulling their life together, offering advice. You don't see that in a coffee house but sitting at a table and chairs at the Mission shop is the perfect backdrop for this type of conversation.

I usually spend alot of time in the houseware section. Yesterday I saw a dish I donated about 2 weeks ago and was almost going to buy it back. I remembered last year when I lost my home how I donated alot of things to the Mission and thankfully I don't see any of those reminders anymore. But, you never forget life experiences like that, so I am drawn to look for things that were mine. That leads me to think of the stories behind the antiques and houseware items they sell. I usually wind up buying something for the boys or myself just so I can look at it and be thankful of where I am today.

You would think any teen would be mortified if his or her mom said I bought you American Eagle and Social Injustice jeans for $2 each at the Mission. Or, carry in that new set of dishes in the house that I bought from the Mission. Not my kids. These little reminders are necessary to make them appreciate the finer things in life.

I always conclude my visit to the Mission with buying soda for the firehouse. They pretty much know me by now - once I dropped off a HUGE pot of chicken soup and they begged me for the firehouse pots which could literally feed an army. Nope! Sorry not for sale! LOL They let me negotiate 50 cents off a case of soda. Yesterday when I got to my car I laughed - there was the case I spent almost double for at Kings for my own house.

No one knows my name at the Mission shop. And they don't have to. I open my trunk, they put in the soda right next to my gear and say see you soon.

I encourage you to visit the Market St. Mission Shop in Morristown. I guarantee when you leave you will have a new appreciation for your home, your job, and your family.