One (wo)Man’s Trash

They say that one man’s trash is another’s treasure.  I got a first hand glimpse of that yesterday.

For the past year or so, our parish Hospitality Committee has been planning a kitchen remodel project in our parish hall.  A major part of this project is to update the appliances to make our kitchen more energy efficient and user-friendly.

As our first step, we chose to sell the old commercial range, a huge beast of stainless steel that has caused many to lose their eyebrows when attempting to light the pilot.  In the past, it was used a great deal for large parish dinners and breakfasts but times have changed and so have the dynamics of our parish.  The old range needed to go to make room for smaller ranges with electronic ignitions.

I was surprised how quickly we received responses to our Craig’sList ad.  Within twenty-four hours we had three interested buyers.  It was then that the fear set in, how were we ever going to get the old range out of the kitchen?

When it first arrived and the parishioners realized the range was too large to fit through the narrow doorway to the kitchen, they gathered a group of strong men and lifted the beast over the kitchen counter.  We didn’t have a group of strong men to help us and I wasn’t sure how we would move it out of there.

We considered pulling down the door jam to give us more room through the door seemed to be our only exit strategy.  But I didn’t think much about it  until I pulled into the parking lot and I saw the truck and trailer. What were we going to do?

Frankly I thought this first couple would take one look at our beast and leave as soon as they learned they’d have to either keep the pilots lit or light them each time they used the stove.

But, the moment my buyers saw the old stove, they fell in lovek with it. After pulling it away from the wall and lighting the burners, the husband went to his truck and returned with a fist full of bills in one hand and his tool bag in the other saying, “I’ll take it.”

He measured the doorway and the range and then spent the next two hours quietly and patiently disassembling and removing parts until the range finally rolled freely though the door.  What impressed me the most about him was the way the kept his cool through the entire process, not once uttering a word of frustration or giving his wife a dark look.

Instead, they chatted about how many pancakes they could make for their sons or cookies they could bake in the double ovens. Their eyes were on their prize; our old clunker of a stove.

After removing the stove, he came back, capped off our gas line and shut the gas off to the hall as a safety precaution.  It turns out he works for one of our local gas companies.

As they drove away with our old beast securely strapped to their trailer, I felt happy for the old girl.  She’d done her job well for us, but never really received the love and care she deserved.  Now she has gone to a good home where she will be loved and cherished. For this family, our old stove was a treasure.