Here's a story. I heard it so long ago I can't properly give credit. If anyone recognizes it and can give me the source, I would totally appreciate that.
The way I remember it goes like this.
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A young woman of modest means saved up enough to buy a pair of fine leather gloves. This was in an era where gloves were very much in vogue, and just the right pair would speak volumes about one's status and position.
She loved those gloves. They made her feel well-dressed, like she was finally a 'somebody.' She'd worked hard and sacrificed for them, earned them honestly. It felt so good when she could finally go into the store and make the purchase. Such luxury was not in any way part of her childhood, growing up in 'that' part of town. At this time in her life, for all these reasons, the gloves were, to be honest, her most precious possession.
An opportunity came to visit a friend in the big city. She would be gone for a month. And not only would this be her first trip beyond her own village, but this would be her first experience riding the train. Not a modern rail line, not back then, but a proper train with a platform and stairs up into the carriage, and windows that opened.
Unfortunately, on the day of her departure she arrived late to the station. She stood anxiously in line at the ticket window, and hurriedly took one glove off to reach into her purse for her fare. Feeling very rushed she did not take the time to put that glove back on her hand while she ran onto the platform and hurried up the stairs just before the train pulled away.
Breathless, she placed her bag in the rack above her and settled herself down into the seat, taking off her scarf and tucking her purse in beside her. That's when, with a gasp, she realized she only had one glove. Frantic, she searched her pockets and her purse, but just then glanced up to look out the window.
There on the platform where she'd dropped it lay her beautiful leather glove. Just one. In her hand was the match.
The train was leaving. There was no going back to fetch it.
It only took a second, that's all she had. With determination she slid open the window and tossed the other glove onto the platform. It landed several feet away, but still within sight of its mate.
An older woman seated across the aisle saw what happened. "My dear, whatever are you doing throwing your glove out the window like that?"
"Now the gloves are still together," she explained, letting out a slow breath. "If I'd kept the one and someone found the other, what good would that do either of us? This way, someone can have a beautiful pair of fine leather gloves."
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I think this story has stuck with me because I am pretty sure I would not have been quick enough to think of that myself. I'm fairly certain, actually, that I would have held on to that one lonely leather glove for a long, long time. I'd have had a hard time parting with it, as unmatched and impractical as it would now be.
I'm afraid I would probably have kept the focus on what I had lost, rather than what I could give. I think I would have held on tighter to what I still had, rather than be free to let it go.
There is so much freedom in letting go, though! So much more freedom in being able to focus on what someone else might need than what I want to hoard.
We're doing a major purge of the house we've lived in for more than 35 years right now, so this is on my mind a lot. It's likely what prompted the memory of this story, come to think of it. These days, I'm evaluating almost everything I own and asking hard questions about what I actually need, what's important to me, and why.
But the story goes a little further, I think. Like the gloves represented a bit of status for this young woman, it's not just about material things. In some ways, that's the easy part.
More insidiously, it's also about tossing onto the platform my ego, my pride, my need for approval, my need to be right, if it means someone else can gain in status, receive the attention, hear the affirmation, have the last word.
A well-honed others-focus, if I can foster that, helps me make decisions about how I will speak and behave within all my relationships, and how quickly, how freely I toss the other glove onto the platform.
For someone else to have.
Lord, give us the grace to throw away the other glove.
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