When I was in college I had the opportunity to work for a lady from my hometown. She grew up during the Great Depression. For months, I thought the woman was crazy. Then on a trip home I was telling my Dad (who knew the woman) about her and some of the things she did. He laughed, and then started sharing stories about relatives the same age as her who did some of the same exact things (recycle coffee grounds - as in you use the same grounds for five days in a row and only add half a pinch of new days 2-4 and on day 5 drink it with milk, etc)
This month I've been assisting Bobby's aunt, who is almost 91, in cleaning out her house as she moves this week. As we packed up the kitchen, I removed the towel from the dish drainer and found this:
But I'm thankful for the small dent they've made in my life. I like to think that should things every become so bad as what they experienced that I will survive with the dignity and grace they did.