Who wants my old stuff?! I know you do. Tell you what—I normally don’t do this, but for YOU . . . for YOU I’ll do it. How ‘bout I throw in a recliner to sweeten the deal. Mint condition, I tell you. Just a few rips and only one missing bolt. Takers?
Anyone?
Six years ago I held my inaugural “free sale” and invited others in my extended neighborhood to participate if interested. I had originally called it a “Freecycle Event” (named after the online resource-- http://www.freecycle.org/ --where local community members offer anything from couches to fruit to theater tickets for free). After watching an angry couple walk away—because there was no free MOTORcycle—I stopped calling it that. So now I just write “Everything is Free.”
The fun part, though, goes like this:
Car slows down. The driver has seen the stuff and presumably the sign. Driver parks. Gets out and looks around. Zeros in on something. “How much is this?”
“It’s free. Everything is free.”
Eyes widen. “Free? Really?”
It’s like winning the lottery . . . well, sort of. (A toaster and some board games may not bring about the same level of elation that a million dollars might, but hey . . .) The customer browses some more and maybe calls a friend. It’s great fun. Some people are more reserved, silently searching through the books or clothes. And, some get to chatting about grandchildren or plans for the garden.
There is no money box to tend. No figuring out how to price the merchandise. And, no haggling.
Examples of items given away in previous years: nursery furniture, lawnmower, small kitchen appliances, clothes, yarn, books, ski boots and home décor.
A few stories have stood out over the years.
The first year, I remember my very first customer. She was checking out a couple of suitcases. She, like many others who would follow her over the years, asked, “How much for these?” She was getting ready for a trip to Samoa, you see, to visit her family. She needed some luggage. These would be perfect.
One year, the weather did not cooperate very well. It was chilly and drizzly. And yet, one young man was heartened by his finds. After browsing, he came up to me and a friend to share where he was headed with his two items: a random piece of red fabric and a sport water bottle. He explained that he was on his way to a Native American spiritual ceremony of some kind—the fabric and the water were to be integral to the ceremony.
And then.
One year things were wrapping up and a few items remained. I was conversing with a couple of energetic customers, chit-chatting about this and that. I saw in the corner of my eye two figures approaching from my left—a man and a young child. I didn’t register anything in particular, just wondered briefly if they were passing through or if they planned on looking through the dregs. My gaze returned to my conversation and we continued with our pleasant banter. I again took a quick glance at the man and the child. The man had picked up the last pair of pants on the table. The pants were two sizes too big for the boy and had a gaping, tattered hole in each knee. The man grabbed the pants and started to dress the boy, who, I now noticed, was wearing only a shirt and a diaper. He rolled up the pant legs, took the boy’s little hand and the two silently continued their journey.
That memory always chokes me up.
And so, as I gear up for this year’s free sale, I wonder about the people I will meet. What are their stories? From whence are they coming? Where are they going? How will our lives be touched during this brief intersection of storylines?
