“For so long, I dreamt of being fantastically wealthy,” he continued, “and I strove daily to find a way to achieve that ambition. But faced, now, with the reality that it is unlikely I’ll ever accumulate substantial wealth, I suddenly find myself quite disenchanted with the idea, and wondering why the prospect of being monetarily rich no longer appeals.”
His use of the terms ‘rich’ and ‘wealthy’ as synonyms grated a little. Oh, sure, I know the thesaurus lists them so, and the dictionary definitions are similar, but for me the terms are worlds apart. For wealth refers only to monetary acquisitions and the assets money can buy.
“My grandmother was rich,” I mused, not quite in answer to his question. “She hadn’t two cents to rub together, and the tiny old house she lived in – her only material possession – was described as ‘a knock-down’ in the for sale advertisements that appeared after her death. But the huge cathedral in which her funeral service was held couldn’t accommodate all who attended. Loudspeakers were hung from trees in the park opposite where friends and loved ones gathered to hear the minister proclaim that few there would know her last name. She was ‘Grandma’ or ‘Aunty Bid’ to all who knew her, and everyone had a story to tell of her kindness and displays of abundant love.”
I think he understood, for he nodded gravely, then remarked that he was greatly enjoying his new job, working from home beside his wife all day, without either the stress attached to a demanding profession or the worry of managing the substantial salary it had yielded.
“It’s a simple life,” he said. “With all the peace and joy that a simple life brings.”
Simple? No! Gran’s life was not simple. She worried daily over the welfare of loved ones and she wearied and deprived herself caring and giving. And yet she was rich beyond words, because all the world loved her, and because she sang and laughed her way through life, and was happy.
“How do I define rich?” I asked. “No definition needed. It shows in shining eyes and glowing cheeks and a deep belly laugh that resonates through the house and echoes from the nearby hills. It’s heard in a lilting voice and seen in a light tripping step. It’s tasted in the sweetness of tea and fresh-baked patty cakes. It’s felt in the hug that welcomes you and in the warmth of the room into which visitors are ushered.
“It’s seen in the contented smile of an infant settling in cradling arms, and heard in the joyous shout of the toddler rushing to greet you; the soft ‘thank you’ uttered by the grieving widow or the labouring mother-to-be to whom you ministered; and the clink when you drop a coin into the blind beggar’s tin.
“’The word ‘rich’ defies definition or measure. When you achieve it, you will feel no different than before and you will not boast of it nor even lay claim. No-one will congratulate or applaud you. But all will know.”
