What Would You Do?

I have a dilemma. A few months ago, my fridge broke. So I called a repair guy, and he came out and, frowning, told us it has a leak in the coils. At the time, buying a new one seemed like an easy solution, as fixing the dang thing was going to cost about as much. But now I’m starting to wonder if we shouldn’t have just fixed it anyway.

Why? Well. Because, apparently, no one wants a fridge with leaky coils. Not the power company, or a used appliance place, the recycle company, or even the dump.

So even though it h as stainless steel doors, a working ice machine, and a compressor that’s less than a year old, it’s now this 26 cubic feet box of junk that no one wants, because it’s “not worth fixing.” And it’s taking up space in my garage.

When did we become a society of “throw it away and buy a new one” when something breaks? And what would you do with this enormous box of…um, non-refrigeration that no one wants?

I feel a story coming out of this. Perhaps it could be turned into a Bill and Ted style time machine. Or a rocket that could take a kid into space a-la Explorers. Or…what else?

The Difference Between Humans and Robots

By Nichole Giles

It has become apparent during various seasons throughout my life that when it rains, it floods. Trials don’t come to us as a single pebble placed inside the toe of our shoe, but more as a rockslide that buries you to the waist, shoulders, or neck.

Fortunately for my family, our current issues fall in the minor category, though nonetheless, they remain heavy and bothersome. I’ll take enormous medical bills, a broken washer and drier, the need for new tires, teenage braces, and a basement flood any day, as long as it means my family members aren’t dying or fighting off deadly diseases. I’ll even take them over sick children and IRS audits.

The things going wrong with us are fixable, broken things replaceable—and since they all pile on at once, I have faith that we’ll find a way to pay for it all. Somehow.

And extended family member of mine has been known to say, “I’d trade trials with just about anyone I know. My life is so much harder than theirs.”

What a sad attitude to take. If not for these experiences, how would we ever learn who we are or how we react under pressure? How else would we grow and become better people?

Without life experiences we are no different from robots.

If not for the hardships, loves, sadness and joy in life, I would have nothing to write about. Harvesting these stories isn’t easy, but when I do, I’m reminded of lessons, miracles, and emotions I might otherwise have forgotten.

I want to experience life—to feel things and know that even the little, bothersome things will someday matter in the grand scheme of my life. But no, I wouldn’t trade places with anyone. Not for a thing!