In a silent moment, just as sleep was catching hold, my daughter opened her eyes and asked me, “Mom, is Santa real?” I told her the truth. There were some tears, but we talked about the beauty that remains in gifting, and she relaxed into her new found knowledge. As I lay next to her as she slept, I realized that the most distressing part of losing Santa is that many of her toys now had ceased to be part of a larger story. I had, single-handedly, de-mythologized her mountains of stuffed animals, her fairy house, her nesting boxes with “Be My Valentine” on them. She loved the idea that Santa wanted her to be his special someone. This left her feeling empty.

We all suffer from a deficit of stories in many areas of our lives, especially with our things. It is true that many suffer from profound scarcity of basic needs, but many people reading this article will recognize that, conversely, many also suffer from a surfeit of possessions, most of which lack meaning in our lives. Many of us work long hours at tedious jobs to afford things that we've been taught (by advertising and our culture of consumption) fills a void. That is a lie. The objects that fill our homes don't fill voids or heal wounds. They create more voids, more responsibilities, and more pressure to accumulate.

Read More Here

by Marie Goodwin

A man came in the other day. He was probably thirty, but was most interested in the children's DVDs. He seemed to have some mental disabilities, and I was genuinely glad to see him. Beth (the other volunteer) and I greeted him and told him he could take what he wanted…anything in the store, and he was genuinely thrilled.

On his way out he stopped by the jewelry case and held each piece, looking carefully. He said, "I can take this home too?" and we responded with an "Of course." He made his selection and walked out, chatting happily as he left.

I didn't think too much about it until about an hour later, when he returned and said, "I'm bringing this back. I just wanted to look at it at home and see how it was made." He then returned the jewelry to the case and left again. 

He's been back in with his mother a few more times… they are financially insecure. She's been out of work since 2010 on disability, although her disability checks have stopped and she is fighting that. She's had to sell everything to pay rent and for food. She can't afford many things for him. She is grateful for our help, for a place where he can come and seek out some things to call his own.

This is the side of the FreeStore I never imagined…that there were angles and reflections of need that I could not calculate ahead of time. The need to look closely at something. The need to choose freely in a place where price is not an issue to someone who has nothing and is insatiably curious about little things. 

These vignettes keep surfacing, and I am surprised each time. This place is a teacher. 

 By Rhonda Fabian

Like others involved with the FreeStore, I have noted a wide range of reactions from friends and neighbors, from genuine interest to total boredom with the idea of “free”. There has even been some hostility. There seems to be a misconception that “it’s only for poor people”. Not true.

It’s only been a week, but every day something great happens. We already see regulars, and people who want to work a shift or two.  They want to know about Transition also. There is a sense of play– decorating, arranging, admiring. A big gruff guy stopped in and picked up some tools and a new orange extension cord.  “This is awesome”, he said, and he meant it.

I do want to share an observation about children who have visited, since I am very interested in children and consumerism. Lots of times in traditional stores I have seen kids whine or beg for this or that.  We all know how targeted they are by marketers; the colorful packaging, misleading claims, and so on. When kids (from 5 to about 15) come in, they are a bit shy at first because they don’t have a reference point for “free”. So there is a wariness. But within a few minutes their delight is palpable. You can see them get it. And here’s the thing. Instead of getting excited, they calm down. Rather than running from thing to thing, they seem to inspect items more slowly and closely. The tension with the parent vanishes and they get lost in the possibilities of making their own choices.

I have yet to see a child ‘hoard’ or act possessive of an item. They make their choices with great deliberation and respect. I don’t see the intense attachment to getting something. Lots of families bring donations and shop during the same visit. So kids see their own items lovingly displayed and maybe even chosen by another child. Lots of interactions happen that would not happen at ToysRUs: helpfulness, conversation, story-telling. And an idea has emerged of borrowing rather than taking. (Oh let me read this and bring it back; or I could use this at the beach for the summer).

Community connection, especially for children, is a commons. We are already so fortunate to be part of a thriving, compassionate community with good schools, volunteer-run sports organization and arts.  Yet our children seem discouraged sometimes about the world. Is it any wonder? Seeing sharing and cooperation in action is wonderful for them and for us. There are many ways we can build on this–get the kids more involved with local food, arts, activism and coming together to share their aspirations and concerns and to support one another.