“Starting with Nothing”

             A few days ago, we ambled into a “remember when” conversation after our son commented that he’s never met a woman from his generation who embraces a view that the partnership of marriage can start from nothing and work slowly forward over many years. The women he knows want a partner established in career with a steady income, vehicles that run, and the promise of eventually becoming “stay at home mothers” instead of remaining in the work force. So different from my own beliefs.

            Our first apartment, in Bryan, Texas, had orange shag carpet. For the first four months of marriage, we sat on the floor, eating off of a large paper box. A friend had given us the foam mattress from a hide-a-bed to use as a bed. Our clothing, folded into neat piles, rested directly on the floor. We didn’t even have a laundry basket at first, and the few wire hangers we had held heavier items like our coats and jackets. The television set, black and white, didn’t have working horizontal hold. It rotated the single channel we tuned through rabbit ears. A wicker chair with matching stool and a white pole lamp, pieces I purchased while in high school, finished the furniture we owned. David entered marriage with one small old suitcase, one paper bag of clothing, his guitar (a gift from a friend), his bass, and cabinet with amplifier. My uncle had given us a partial set of American Airlines silverware. Our pots and pans, mix-matched, barely filled our cooking needs. That was okay. We barely had food for groceries. Those months, before our first paychecks arrived, were our pinto bean days.

            Around September, one of David’s aunts loaned us an old mattress and table. We picked up a couple of folding chair, which graduated us to fine dining! We pooled our wedding gift cash to buy unpainted wood chests. Finally, our clothing had a home. The foam pad shifted to the living room for a “couch”.

           

            Those sparse first months gave us the ability to do sacrifice for later goals. My college loans got payed off at a double rate. Once we moved from College Station to San Antonio, we kept our budget strict. Together, we roamed through department and furniture stores to select the furniture that fit a style we both loved.

            For us, part of the success of our long marriage started in those first months of struggle. It gave us a foundation for working together for long-term goals.

 

Copyright 2023 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman 

“Volunteering”

Life as an Air Force brat meant making new friends every few years. It demanded adjusting to new homes and schools. It required living with separation from my father during long TYDs, the Cuban Missile Crisis, and his tour in Vietnam. For many children, such a life becomes a hardship, but not for me.

            My parents worked hard to provide unconditional love and stability within the framework of continual change. I knew that the world wasn’t always a nice, or safe, place; yet I internalized the belief that people are basically good. Service to our country and to the community became an important cornerstone of my upbringing. My parents volunteered in our schools. My mother helped to establish the Helping Hand program in our neighborhood. My father coached football for the YMCA. Both of my parents volunteered for PTA functions and held offices within the organization. I learned from my parents  to measure success in life by the strength of loving relationships and not the amount of my monthly paycheck.

         At the age of fifteen, I began volunteering at Northeast Baptist Hospital in San Antonio, Texas. I spent so many hours at the hospital as a candy-striper that I won an award at the end of my first year for putting in more than one-hundred hours. I loved every rotation at the hospital. In the office, I answered phones and filed forms. One of my duties included going to each patient to discuss meal options for the day. I loved chatting with so many different people. I learned that even a person in pain and discomfort would put a smile on her face when I entered the room. Some days, my assignment found me in the gift shop. I learned how to run a cash register, do inventory, and help pick out the perfect card or gift. Eventually, my duties extended to the pharmacy. This much coveted rotation meant I’d earned the trust of the director of volunteer services. The summer I spent in service taught me valuable lessons about illness and caring. I learned what it meant to become a member of a team, and how important a simple hug can be when a family suffers loss.

         When I went to college at Texas A&M, I didn’t set aside my need to service others. It didn’t take me long to realize that many other college students wanted to volunteer within the Bryan/College Station area. With another friend, we established Student Volunteer Services. Given a small cubical in the MSC, we slowly carved out a reputation with various organizations and with Aggies. SVS became the liaison between the students and organizations. We helped place students into the Big Brother/Big Sister program. We lined up volunteers for different activities sponsored by organizations. We aided students in volunteering in local classrooms, at the library, and at the hospital. My experiences at A&M reinforced my belief that most people are kind and generous.

         “I’m a teacher,” one friend used to state matter-of-factly, “I already donate my time and money!”  And I’d have to agree. Teaching requires a commitment of time, energy, and financial resources. On my meager salary, I purchased additional supplies for my classroom. My extra time found me writing, typing, printing, and mailing out the PTO newsletter. I sponsored Student Council and the National Junior Honor Society. I coached UIL spellers. I went to work early every morning and stayed late every day. My experiences as an educator didn’t differ from almost all of the other teachers at my schools.  I may have received a paycheck every month for my “profession” but nothing repaid the vocation demanded within education.

         As a parent, I found myself a Cub Scout leader and Odyssey of the Mind coach during the school year. The demands of work and parenting meant volunteering for other organizations slipped into my summer breaks. Several summers I found myself at Lutheran Social Services, helping with office work initially. Eventually, I sat in on counseling with pregnant mothers as they struggled with decisions on adoption. Again, I found myself serving people during an extremely stressful time of life, and I rediscovered the basic goodness that resides within most people’s hearts.

         My life experiences help me hold onto the conviction that more people strive to do good than evil. Between volunteer work and my profession, I rarely heard a parent say, “I want to spend the rest of my life on welfare.” None of my students longed to stay in minimum wage jobs. No one planned to stay mired in drug or alcohol addiction. I worked with many people who admitted they’d made mistakes in life’s choices. They expressed regrets; often wished that they had the know-how or tools necessary to change. Some people try to tell me that I don’t know what people are “really like,” but I think their hardness prevents them from enjoying the best of life. I believe in the goodness of the human soul.       

Copyright 2012 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman