Shelly the Collector

Shelly and I were discussing her collection of papers. She sometimes organizes her desk and throws some of it out to make room for more. She usually does this on her own now, without me initiating it, but she still needs help. I told her she's like Hector the Collector. We read the poem. She said she's a little bit like Hector because she has paper bags, and he does too. But he has socks that have been mended, and she doesn't. Plus, he has more stuff than she does. I told her its really sad about Hector, because he loves his stuff "with all his soul." And that's not how we should live. I asked Shelly what we should love with all our soul and she immediately said, "God!" And what else? "Can you give me an idea?" I asked her WHO she loves and she started listing people. So we should love God and people. Not our things. God takes care of us, not our things. She seemed to understand all this. And then, of course, the conversation took a direction I wouldn't have expected.

"Should we love strangers?" That stopped me in my tracks. I understood, sort of, what she was trying to work out. Yes, love strangers. Jesus tells us to love everyone. But Jesus does not tell us to TRUST everyone. So we talked about trust. It continually surprises me the way my kids can follow up with such thoughtful questions. It amazes me how they're figuring out how the world works, and what the rules are.

A conversation about collections and organizing turned into a lesson on love and trust. I just pray that as we keep moving forward, having these conversations, that I could stay at least one step ahead, that God would give me the answers for their tough questions.

Hector the Collector

by Shel Silverstein

Hector the Collector
Collected bits of string,
Collected dolls with broken heads
And rusty bells that would not ring.

Pieces out of picture puzzles,
Bent-up nails and ice-cream sticks,
Twists of wires, worn-out tires,
Paper bags and broken bricks.
Old chipped vases, half shoelaces,
Gatlin' guns that wouldn't shoot,
Leaky boats that wouldn't float
And stopped-up horns that wouldn't toot.

Butter knives that had no handles,
Copper keys that fit no locks,
Rings that were too small for fingers,
Dried-up leaves and patched-up socks.
Worn-out belts that had no buckles,
'Lectric trains that had no tracks,
Airplane models, broken bottles,
Three-legged chairs and cups with cracks.

Hector the Collector
Loved these things with all his soul,
Loved them more than shining diamonds,
Loved them more than glistenin' gold.

Hector called to all the people,
"Come and share my treasure trunk!"
And all the silly sightless people
Came and looked...and called it junk.