A number of years ago I came home early from work one day before our house cleaner had finished. On the kitchen table next to her purse and cell phone, I saw a small stack of socks that looked like the kind I wear.
"Are those mine?" I asked her.
"Yes," she said. "I happened to see them in the waste basket in your bedroom."
"What do you use them for," I asked, "dusting?"
She gave me an indulgent smile. "No, I'm going to take them to the homeless shelter where I volunteer."
"But all of those socks all have holes in the toes," I protested, "that's why I threw them away."
"The people at the shelter who have no socks at all won't care about the holes."
Thoroughly shamefaced? Yes. Have I changed my ways? No. I still throw away things that have a little wear or use still in them, but now I feel guilty when I do it.
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