My "Poor" Story

Tim works with some people who enjoy telling one another what they refer to as "poor stories". They're always looking for a story to top the other person's story about how poor someone is. I grew up rich in love but poor in material things and so I shared with them my "poor story" a couple of years ago and they were thrilled. They're a bunch of silly people but I enjoy talk to them when I can.

I use to live in a church bus. My dad felt this would be a good idea while we built our home. I spent from first grade through sixth grade in that bus while the house was being built. My parents built it themselves and bought supplies as they could afford it so they didn't have to use credit cards, etc. We fixed it up like a camper and it was so cute. I had a few friends who thought it was really cool but there were also a few kids on my school bus who made fun of me almost daily when the bus would pick me up or drop me off. My friends thought it was cool to stay all night with me.

Our front door was of course the door with the steps. Our back door was the emergency exit. We had tons of windows all through the house and so air circulation was never an issue. I have twin sisters and we all three shared the top bunk while my parents shared the bottom bunk bed. My mom and dad built a tiny little room next to the bedroom that held a deep pot for us to use the bathroom in. We took our baths outside behind the bus in a large container that is normally used for feeding animals. We had no running water for a period of time and so we used the well inside our tiny little well house. We would pump it into a bucket and carry it back to the bus and heat it on top of our wood burning stove in order to take hot baths or to wash dishes. Each day, we had to empty the pot we all used the bathroom in throughout the entire day. No one liked this job! Duh! My mother sews very well and so she made curtains for every single window in the full lenth church bus. That's a TON of curtains!

My favorite part about living in the bus was opening the front door. That was the one part of riding on the school bus that we were never allowed to touch and so it was pretty darn exciting for us to be able to open and close the door. My dad was always embarrassed about having his family living in a bus like that and was constantly appologizing to us. My mom made the best of everything that she was given and did an excellent job, I might add! We as kids, loved living in the bus aside from the mean kids who made fun of us.

It was one cool place to live and the understanding I have gained about living poor is something that I am eternally grateful for. I am simply not able to look down at other people who live in rougher homes than I do now or who dress in clothing that is not as nice as my clothes are now. This is all because I have been there and lived it. I was a happy child and it had nothing to do with how much money we had or what clothing I was wearing or what my house looked like. I wouldn't change my childhood one bit. I treasure it because of what God has shown me through it!

Do you have a poor story that you would like to share? I would love to hear it!