The thrill was gone! After downsizing all of our “stuff” for our relocation to Florida, I realized after we settled into our new place just how much “stuff” I now had to duplicate. We had a small outdoor table but needed patio chairs. Being the “sale shopper and thrifter” I have become, I ventured out to Lowe’s looking for just the right chairs. But there was not a “sale” sign in sight on the patio furniture. The manager assured me that if I came back in a month and they were not sold, I could get them at a great savings. Determined, I marked my calendar and did return. 

I walked to the aisle, but there were no patio chairs in sight. My excited smile went downward. As I continued to shop, I noticed a “clearance aisle” and there, piled one on top of the other, were the chairs, looking a little tired from their original state. No matter, there was still a twinkle in my eye to think they were now on clearance. I asked for the same manager who remembered my last visit. He wanted to clear the aisle of these chairs as much as I wanted to buy them, so he gave me a great deal on all 4 of them – especially since someone had returned them and there was a little bit of rust on the legs. My excitement had to be contained. 

“I can see you like them, and since someone bought them and returned them and they are taking up room on the floor, you can have them for …,” he hesitated, “….$8 each” – which was far below the sale price. I did notice some rusting spots on the bottom legs of the chair, but that would be a quick fix for this great deal. I was elated! He packed them into my SUV, and off I went. 

Once on the patio, they were a bit too large, but for $8, I could reimagine they were perfect … UNTIL … the rainy season came. There was no protection for these chairs, and they rusted on the legs even more. We had the chairs for months, and I really was thankful to have them at the time. Now, a new season had come, and I wanted something smaller for the patio, especially since these chairs would do better under a cover. I decided to put them on Marketplace for $10 each – so I could at least make a profit for all of my efforts in removing the rust. 

Aha! I had many takers so I knew the price was right. I gave the first gentleman my address, and he advised he would bring cash and a young neighbor with a van to help. He arrived, a very robust, older man with a tired but gentle voice. The patio was fenced in without a gate so I had to lift the chairs over to him to get into the van, which was a distance away in the driveway. 

“My wife would be scolding me if she saw me lifting these chairs,” he said. I could see he was struggling and told him not to try two at a time for the distance. He put them down and sat on one, clearly out of breath. 

“We will bring the other chairs to the car for you,” I said. He gave me a puzzled look. 

“Oh, yes, I forgot there were two more. Sometimes I am so forgetful,” he said as he held his forehead. His young helper laughed. “I was in the Army, and I drove tanks, hitting my head over and over, so I am paying the price now.” My heart felt a pain to hear this. His young helper lifted the chairs into the van, and the man proceeded to take the cash out of his pocket, counting it ever so slowly, not once but twice.

“Well, it is all here: $40,” he stated. He said they would still need more chairs for all the family coming for Christmas. We exchanged goodbyes, and off they went and I was $40 richer – or so I thought. After they drove away, something inside of me realized just how much this $40 actually meant to this man. My husband said I should just call him and give him the chairs. It really was the right thing to do. I called him, and he couldn’t clearly understand what I was saying. As I tried to tell him to return so I could give him back his money, he said, “Okay,” and hung up – never hearing that I wanted to return his money and give him the chairs. This incredibly honest man returned minutes later with such sadness as he got out of the van prepared to return the chairs. I advised him they were a gift and returned his $40. He stood still for a few moments. He had the most sincere look on his face, and he started to cry. Those chairs and that money meant more to him than they could ever mean to me at that moment. 

He gave me a huge hug and said, “Thank you so very much and Merry Christmas.” This was certainly one of the best gifts I could receive also. 

“Merry Christmas,” I said … and it will be.