my trash their treasure

It was another one of those "Taupo" chimes at the gate.  I still hesitate to answer the gate.  On a typical day there is no less than one and no more than three.  I never know if I have what they want.  ["Taupo" is the greeting by someone coming to the gate]. I want to feed people, especially kids...but will I be setting myself up for a crowd eventually at my gate that expects to be fed?  It's hard to know.  Probably one of those things that just should be left to the Lord to decide for me.  After all, he's known for thousands of years, long before my time, that we would be here in this country, in this neighborhood, on this street...and who would be coming to my address [and who he himself would be bringing to my address].

This time it was a man and son.  They interacted as if they were related at least.  I understood Carton.  They were pointing at the boxes.  I pick one up and ask, "ito?" [this one?] and he gleefully replies, "all obe dem!".  One was the box used to package and wrap the clothes drying rack we had purchased at Greenhills, several other small ones ...and it was all in the large balikbayan box that had onion powder spilled all over inside.  So I showed him and told him "onion powder" and he replies, "it's ok!" with smiling enthusiasm.  

Back in the house I went glad someone was so willing to take it off my hands.  For the next five to ten minutes they jibber jabbered about the onion powder and what sounded like, in their poverty limited mindset, big plans and ideas of what they were going to do with these boxes.  All that while neatly folding down the boxes and then using the leftover plastic twine to tightly package it for foot transport.

Then they started off yelling back at the house "Thank-you Po!".  They walked away with a skip in every step and jovial jibber jabber as if they'd hit the jackpot.  For them, it was the jackpot.  Since that day, we've had other visitors happy to relieve us of empty boxes we've set out on our front porch.