The Poorest People are Often the Richest

When I was growing up, my family was poor. There were a lot of kids, my dad was going back to college and trying to work full time.

There was a time where I didn’t even see my dad for several days because he’d be working so late, trying to work enough hours to make ends meet.

I never thought of us as poor, to be honest. God always provided for us. In fact, I remember one particular instance when my mom prayed for fruits and vegetables because she felt like a terrible mother because we couldn’t afford any.

That very same day, somebody from our church, somebody who didn’t know how bad off we were, brought us a huge crate (maybe even two, I don’t remember, but it was a lot) of green beans. Our neighbors’ ancient apple trees produced more fruit than they did the entire eleven years I lived there. Same with the pear tree up the street.

We kids didn’t have electronics, either--no tablets, just a school laptop for learning Spanish and an outdated PC. No wifi, though that was my parents’ choice. After all, you have to be careful with kids and the internet.

I’m not complaining--in fact, I’m grateful for the way my childhood went. My siblings and I spent every afternoon, even the entire day if it was summer, outside in the woods. Hunting, building forts, riding bikes, playing hide-and-go-seek, walking on stilts, climbing trees, airsoft wars, throwing mud clods at each other ... we were never bored.

Things weren’t always that financially tight. There were always certainly people who had it worse than we did. Every Christmas, our parents would tell us that Christmas was “going to be small this year.” But every Christmas morning, the living room seemed to be filled with gifts. Or, at least, that’s what it always seemed like to me.

Things got steadily better, as they usually do.

Stuff happened, like growing up--siblings going to college, moving ...

When I was older, I started to realize that we were different from other kids. The problems we’d faced when we were younger had taught us how to handle not getting everything we wanted. We had a good work ethic, thanks to our dad, and the fact that if something needed to be done or fixed, we did it ourselves. We were healthier than most and in love with the outdoors. None of us cared about fitting in or being cool. Without having social media to tell us constantly how we should look, think, or talk, we were confident in who we were. If we believed something, we weren’t changing because other people didn’t like our opinions and told us to believe otherwise. We didn’t watch TV, either, just movies or older series on DVDs like westerns, war films, Tom and Jerry, Hogan’s Heroes, etc. (Cable cost money, folks, and it’s not really necessary.)My brothers were amazing marksmen (and handsome, too, but that doesn’t really have much to do with anything.) We were adaptable and more closely knit than a lot of people just because of everything we’d been through. Though, as we grow up and start following our dreams, we’re not as close as we used to be.

A lot of people say that my siblings and I are very mature for our ages. I’ve also been told that we’re some of the msot driven people they know. I strongly believe this is due to the fact that if we wanted something, we had to work for it. Without entertainment at our fingertips like it is now, we had to find ways to occupy ourselves, whether it was learning something new or perfecting a skill we already had.

I can’t look back on all the ways food was provided and bills paid--my dad even got a scholarship on the very same night he was deciding he was going to quit college because he couldn’t afford it--and not believe in God. Not believe that He loves and takes care of His children.

I do not say anything of what I said in anyway to boast or brag or anything like. Certainly not to make myself seem better than anyone else. I’m just saying that I wouldn’t be the same person I am now if it wasn’t for everything that happened. Hardships don’t make sense when they’re happening, and they certainly aren’t enjoyable. It’s only when we’re done that we can look back, and be like, “I’m really glad that happened.”

Mom, Dad, I know you always felt like you were doing an inadequate job providing for us and that you felt guilty you couldn’t give us everything we ever wanted. But if I could do my childhood all over again, I certainly wouldn’t change anything.

I’ve got a lot of my life still to go, but I feel very well-equipped with all the lessons life has already taught me.