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It’s a rare and strange talent.  A skill that most do not have nor desire to acquire.  Yet those in possession of such a skill are predisposed for a creative and resourceful life.  I’m talking about the peculiar talent (okay, wacky might be a better descriptor) that my younger daughter, Lily, has for making creations out of garbage.  No, I mean literally garbage.  As in she will open the trash to throw something out, see something else inside the can that catches her eye, sparks an idea and the next thing I know she’s asking, “Can I have that?  I need it for something.”

My husband put together a filing cabinet yesterday and he left the box and packing material remains on the mud room floor (you know, not quite in the garage but close enough to count).  Lily came home from school and before she had even taken her backpack off her shoulders she asked me if she could have some of “that stuff” as she pointed to the strewn styrofoam boards used to pack the filing cabinet parts.  Sure I said, somewhat hesitantly, as I envisioned what kind of messy project she was about to embark upon. 

Then my office line rang, the afternoon emails came in at a steady pace, I scrambled to process and pack the outgoing day’s orders and before I knew it I was my usual pre-UPS pick-up ball of late afternoon stress.  I hadn’t seen or heard much from Lily for the rest of the afternoon but I do recall her running up the stairs at one point with her arms full – and I wasn’t sure of what.  As the dinner hour approached, I grumbled to myself about all the work I still needed to do after the kids went to sleep.  Then I left to carpool for my older daughter’s soccer practice.  Because I can never do one thing at a time, I simultaneously drove and berated myself (both ways) for not having enough time (again) to make a “proper” meal for my family.  When I got home, as the chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese cooked, I exhaustedly went up to my room to put away some laundry not knowing where the strength would come to get through the rest of my night.  That’s when I glimpsed something on my bed.

Lily had broken up the flat strips of styrofoam packing into foot long “plaques” which she then decorated, personalized and carefully placed on each of our respective beds.  My heart – along with my stress – melted away as I marveled at Lily’s creativity, independence and thoughtfulness.

We all have a lot of “garbage” in our lives.  The lucky ones know how to look past it all.  The truly fortunate know how to transform it.