Recently, Michael and I took a Saturday morning walk which included stopping by an estate sale.  Upon inquiring, we found that this ‘junk’ was the property of a little old lady who was still living, yet declining health had forced her to a nursing home.  Having lived her entire life in an apartment, there wasn’t much in the way of furniture; and what she did have, her 90+ year-old-sister was attempting to sell in order to make her possessions more manageable.  I was struck with sadness for the little old lady and then became pensive at the  thought that one day, the fate of MY valuable possessions (a.k.a. J.U.N.K) will be the same–An estate sale, where family members pawn off my old panty hose, my goofy trinkets, and my closet full of games in which no one cares about, anyway. 

I grabbed a couple of games & an eccentric greeting card from her stash and was officially done shopping, I thought.  For some reason though, I decided to take one more look at the costume jewelry and peruse through the collection.  A lady helping with the sale, not by any means a spring chicken herself, helped draw my attention to several pieces of tacky apparel.  I smiled and ‘oohed’ in all the right places, still struck with the sadness of meaningless things.  I stopped at a fun item.  A lipstick mirror that attaches to a tube of lipstick.  Quirky, yet practical, although I hardly ever wear lipstick at all.  I took a final look at the item and decided to add it to my purchases.  For no reason, really.  I simply admired a trinket that was probably once cherished.

I sat my items on the rickety table to purchase my plunder.  The total should have been at least $3.00.  The man tabulating the cost stated, “That will be $2.00.”  The man was clearly cutting me a deal, but again, the sadness for what had become of one lady’s treasures haunted me.  “Oh, I owe you more than that.” I claimed, and shoved a few more quarters in his hand to compromise between his asking price and the sticker price.  I walked away, sad but satisfied.

I haven’t done anything with the lipstick holder until last night.  I took a good look at the item and smiled to myself, thinking of the old lady.  The lipstick holder had come with a used, complimentary tube of lipstick.  With a smirk on my face, I decided to take a gander at the color of the lipstick inside–something I had not thought to do before.  When I saw the color, I smiled.  Never in my lifetime will I be caught dead, in public with this hideously colored lipstick–it’s something so bright a poisonous dart frog would die from its color alone.  It’s bad.  But it made me smile even more thinking of the color on an old woman’s lips.

My inkling to see how bad it really looked ON SOMEONE inspired me.  I wiped off all the cooties that were lingering since it’s last use, years ago.  I slathered some on my lips, wrinkling my nose as an old waxy smell greeted it.  My lips felt sticky.  I checked out the final product in the mirror, and the first glance caused a laugh.  What in the world was she thinking?  It’s truly bad.

The lipstick holder experience has been a terrific reminder for me.  One day, people will smirk at my things (they probably already do).  They will wonder why I have such odd & worthless trinkets, like a lipstick mirror that was probably originally purchased on clearance at a dime store.  But perhaps it will serve as a reminder to them, as the lipstick did for me–a reminder that things don’t really matter…Thankfully, the Source of my happiness is far better than what a million lipstick holders could ever offer.  And I am grateful for that reminder from the little old lady & her foul tube of lipstick.