A Lesson from Grandpa

My mother cranked down the
window, in the back seat of the old car,
and casually tossed her gum
wrapper into the breeze.
Moments later, the car was being

 guided to the side of the road and
my mother directed to retrieve her trash.

 

"Oh Daddy," my mother whined,
 "it's just a little piece of paper."
 

"The countryside
will soon be filled with trash," my
grandfather warned, "if everyone
tosses  little pieces of paper
 out of the window."

It was the early 1930s. 
My mother was about six years old.

 

 My parents raised me much the way my mother's parents had raised her... a rare spanking, the occasional restriction, and what seemed like, endless lessons about  personal and social responsibility. It was never about other's opinions of my actions ....it was always about how my actions would affect them. There were times when a good spanking would have been easier.

 I guess it was only a matter of time before I began to contemplate the amount of paper my seemingly harmless letter writing resolution could generate. I wasn't about to abandon my resolution because of a concern over adding to the landfill, but I knew I needed to give this issue some thought.

My solution? A sweet, sentimental one that will, understandably, sound weird to some people.  If you knew my mom, you'd understand. Letter writing was such a regular part of my mom's life that she had drawers of stationary and note cards. I've saved a lot of them...tucked  into a box...stored away...thinking someday it would be easier to toss them out. I didn't think I'd ever write enough letters to use them up. Now, I just might.

Just one of my possible note card and stationery choices for January.