We have this...this thing that we do. A way we are. A way we behave. I call it the Economy of Women.
The Economy of Men goes back to the founding of, well, of whatever we are. You need a goat? No problem, Caveman Joe. I will give you a goat. It is worth 6 black rocks and 2 sticks. Caveman Joe gives the rocks and sticks and takes the goat. Even Steven. You need a house? Pay me $190,000 because that is what it is worth.
Women, I have observed, have an economy all different. You need some bread? Here, have some bread. And jam. Butter too. You can't pay me for it? No problem. When I need something you can help me out then.
My neighborhood is not the most wealthy. In fact, most of the residents there live on government subsidies or live on very little. One of my new-found friends has a daughter who is severely physically and mentally challenged due to birth issues. She is in a wheelchair and is an amazing young woman. My friend devotes her life to her daughter, but has next to nothing in the way of wealth.
We were at a meeting for church when she announced that her handicapped daughter, who is sixteen, had been asked to the Homecoming Dance by a huge hunk at her high school. While we were all excited, my friend shyly smiled that her daughter, yes her daughter, was going to be happy and cared about for one night. Then I realized that this woman, who is barely getting by, was responsible for getting a dance dress, jewelry, etc. of which she has none and no possible way of providing them.
The other women realized it, too. And I watched as the Economy of Women was set into motion silently and with as much grace and compassion as I have ever seen. It was done in such a way as to keep my friend's pride in tact. The following statements were made by the 8 or 9 women sitting around a table.
"Oh! Take my new camera so the colors of her dress really pop!" said woman number 1.
"She doesn't have a dress, yet. I am not sure what she will choose." said my friend.
"I have the most beautiful black velvet with rhinestones along the color. It would fit her, I bet." said woman number 2.
"If she is wearing black, let me make her boutonnière. I have all those Fire and Ice roses that I won't get to using. They would be perfect in contrast." said woman number 3.
"Do you have someone to do her hair and makeup?" said woman number 4.
"I was going to take her to Great Clips. I don't know how good they are but..." said my friend.
"No, No! Bring her to my salon. It would be amazing! Drop her off at, say, 10am?" said woman number 4.
And on and on it went.
Dress.
Shoes.
Jewelry.
Acrylic Nails.
Transportation in a fancy limo with wheelchair access.
More fancy pictures.
As we sat around talking about the amazing night this Saturday would be, I realized that these women didn't want to play dressup with someone's child. They were helping this woman do something for her daughter that she couldn't do herself. My friend was a big gooey ball of appreciation and relief. Her daughter would look great, be pampered, and would be the belle of the ball.
Not a penny expected in return. And our hearts were allowed to grow by talking and sharing and sacrificing just a little bit for the greater good.
So, on Saturday, she will wear my dress. She will have shoes by someone else, hair by yet another friend, and so on.
The Economy of Women, through years and years of "evolution" and "modernization" can not be defeated. We are here to bring balance to an ever-more financial world.
And we expect nothing in return.
