In the early 1920’s my mother’s parents built a snug little house on the high ground of what was then the west edge of Robert Lee, Texas.
Some of the most carefree days of my life were spent in and around that cottage. Now that I have nine grandchildren of my own with most of them just starting school, for the first time I have some appreciation for how totally we must have shattered my grandparents’ usual serenity when we invaded their compact living space every month or so at about the same age.
They always seemed to be delighted when we descended upon them, although I realize now that their tiny residence was quite full before we got there. Somehow they always had room on the floor for one more pallet and room at the table for one more plate (even if we had to eat in shifts).
I was almost grown before I realized that my grandparents had built a house with no closets. For a very simple reason. They didn’t need any.
Grandmother’s plain cotton pinafores always looked fresh and clean. I remember watching her iron them before she folded them neatly and tucked them into the top drawer of her dresser.
Granddaddy wore khakis. Top and bottom. 365 days a year. All the clothes he owned fit into the drawer on his side of the same dresser. Except for the work coat that hung on a peg by the back door.
We rejoiced when, after the big War, they finally added indoor plumbing. In the new bathroom they included a small closet. Not for clothes, though. It held the bedding necessary for visiting grandkids. My generation needed that closet. Theirs didn’t.
Today in our fine, large homes nobody ever seems to have enough closet space, do they? How come? Because we moderns have almost lost the art of living well while owning little. Because our generation no longer has a clue to Jesus’ dictum, “A man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.”
I like the motto on one family’s wall: “We own this house, and it will never own us.” Possessions do have a way of possessing us, don’t they? Maybe that’s why life had more goodness and grace when it had fewer closets.