Mahmee and her friend wanted to buy the
same sweater, which was the only, only, only one of its size in the entire
store. Mahmee thought her friend was being selfish. After all, her friend lives
with family, doesn’t have to pay rent, and can afford to buy anything she wants.
Mahmee, on the other hand, lives alone and has to watch every penny she spends
(though she makes sure I have all the hay and bedding and healthy food that I
need). She was annoyed at her friend. She thought her friend had no right to
keep wanting and wanting and wanting things when there were people like her,
Mahmee, who struggle to buy the basic necessities of life, like clothing. She
told her friend that there was something wrong with the sweater, and then she put
it on a rack where she knew her friend wouldn’t find it.
Mahmee looked forward to wearing that
sweater. She figured out where she would scrimp and what she would deny herself
to make up for the amount of money it cost. Two days later, she bought the
sweater, brought it home and discovered it didn’t fit, it was too small. All
the plotting and calculating and resentment had been for nothing. Or maybe it
wasn’t. Mahmee realized it was she, not her friend, who was selfish, and she felt
awful about not just deceiving her friend but knowing how cunning she could be.
So she cut the price off the sweater,
wrapped the sweater in tissue paper, and gave it to her friend as a gift. The
woman was delighted, but the sweater turned out to be too small for her, too.
Instead of exchanging it for a larger size, Mahmee’s friend let Mahmee return
it and get her money back. A friendship was saved, no money was lost, and
Mahmee saw for herself that sharing is better than wallowing in envy and
finding fault with others.
Oh, I know all about sharing. I'm a guinea pig, I was made
to share. I have wheeks and purrs enough to fill the universe. I’m also a
bottomless font of the little gifts I leave for Mahmee every morning. But I
really shouldn’t talk about those over breakfast.
