Treasure Hunt

When I was a small, pig-tailed girl, I’d walk the 100 yards between my parents’ house and their store pulling a Radio Flyer wagon behind me. Every time I’d see something catch the sun’s ray and reflect from the road’s grassy shoulder, I’d stop to investigate. Sometimes my discovery was only worth a glimpse or sneakered kick, but other times, lots and lots of times, I’d discover five and ten cent treasures.

Aluminum cans or clear, brown and green glass bottles people had thrown from their car windows oblivious to the litter they created along a beautiful Vermont country road. “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

Vermont has a bottle redemption program and I’d save those sun-drenched discards until the anticipation of my accumulated wealth beckoned a parent to help me exchange my collection for cash. We’d drive to the local convenience store and I’d watch as an attendant tallied my finds and then placed a dowry in my hand.

Sometimes my new wealth would help fill my pockets with candy and other times it helped to buy school supplies, or clothes, or other necessities.

Every day as I watch the news or read the paper and contemplate what today’s global recession will mean to all of us, what it already means to my family, I think about that child and her little red wagon. Georgia doesn’t have a bottle redemption program, but I find myself breathing in an old awareness of how quickly five cents multiplies into a dollar and I switch off lights, skip the latte, and buy the less expensive tomatoes.

With every swing of the pendulum, we unveil opportunity. The trick is to discover what’s worth only a glimpse and what’s actually unearthed or discarded bounty. My entrepreneur’s spirit can only survive if I continue to believe in a dream and in my power to make it a reality.

If you notice a little girl with pigtails pulling a wagon, go ahead and roll down your window, smile and wave. It’s me out looking for treasure.