How do we know when we are rich? Does it occur when we purchase that home we’ve always dreamed of, or that automobile? Does it occur when we find we have the largest bank account in the neighborhood or that our children dress the best?
Is it when we realize that we have enough? Is it when we
have plenty?
Apparently not: the richest man in the world, and his
billionaire sidekicks have it all but still want more.
Perhaps the more proper question is: What does it mean to be
rich?
My Sainted Mother once told me that the day she felt she
might not be poor all her life was the day her family acquired an electric butter
churn. Don’t ask.
A dear friend, born in El Paso, Texas to an Hispanic family
told me of his memories as a young child when his family shared, with three
other families, a fourth of the covered bed of a farm truck as they followed
the harvest across America. He gestured to a modest home smiled and said, “And
look what we have now.”
Is that being rich?
A man grew up in our county with barely just enough mental
capacity to hold a job, marry, and raise a family. He was quiet and friendly
and folks didn’t think about him much until they needed help with a minor task,
assistance in mending malfunctioning equipment, or a hand in treating livestock. they might ask
him for a ride to church or to pick up groceries for them. He was just a face
in the community and easy to forget until he died of cancer.
That’s when those headed to his funeral found that, although
they arrived early, the church had already filled to overflowing and the
nearest parking spot was a quarter of a mile away. That’s when folks remembered
him and a kindness he had once done them.
Ya’ll think whatever you want, but for me that man died a
richer person than Elon Musk will ever be.
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