CREDOS : Buried treasure — I

She is your neighbour. She lives in that house down the street where the grass gets a little tall in the summer. The sidewalks remain covered in snow a little longer than most of the homes in your area. During your early morning drive, you’ll see her outside in her housecoat and slippers, sweeping the porch. Even on a warm summer day, she wears a heavy sweater.

Every so often you see her walking down the street with her fold-up pushcart, heading toward the grocery store. For the most part she is invisible to the world. She has become a part of the scenery. She goes about her daily routines, asking for nothing from the world. And the world responds by doing nothing for her.

The truth is she could die tomorrow and you most likely wouldn’t even miss her. “They’re selling that old house down the street. You know, where that old lady lived.” “I saw a sign at the grocery store. They’re having a tag sale. I bet there’s some great old stuff in there. Let’s make a point to go Saturday. We’ll get there early for some real bargains.”

By the end of that Saturday, when the last piece of her life has been sold, she will be but a memory for someone. Her worth to whatever family members laid claim to her property will be in dollars and cents. She was just passing through this life, biding her time. “How sad,” you say to yourself. How sad indeed. Sad that you never got to know her. If you had taken the time to say hello one day you would have been blessed. —