A Forkful of Gratitude

Yesterday, when I was emptying my dishwasher, I noticed that my stainless steel silverware was beginning to rust. More specifically, one particular fork I had pulled out was starting to form huge rust spots everywhere.

Now, I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so this upset me slightly; I mean, the silverware was purchased specifically for the fact that it was not supposed to rust (like, ever), very unlike the set we had before it which, after x-amount of years, ended up rusting thoroughly.

But with this set, I was looking forward to years and years and years and years and years and years and years of guaranteed beautiful, sparkling silverware, silverware that would put even Downton Abbey, where they polish their silverware on the daily, to shame. So, as I just said a few moments ago, I of course started getting a little upset at what I saw before my eyes; it was ruining my dinnerware dreams!

Now, when I say “upset,” I wasn’t necessarily sad about the rust. What I was was ticked off; plain and simple, there just shouldn’t have been anything on my rust-free silverware that was barely a year old. Clearly, something was wrong there!

I don’t know, I just felt a bit betrayed by it all. Like I said: Broken dinnerware dreams.

But then a little thought suddenly popped into my head. I’m not sure exactly how it came about, but for some reason deep within my subconscious, I began thinking that it was horrible of me to care so much about something so silly as a rusting fork. After all, it’s not like rust is some horrific problem that causes health issues or makes the ware entirely unusable (whether due to complete heinousness or crumbling to bits as you take a bite from it). Even though a bit less shining, it was nonetheless a completely okay fork. But there I was still complaining and getting angry about it.

In other words, I am that privileged where I can be picky about and thus get upset over the way a few pieces of my silverware collection look.

What kind of awful person am I?!?

When there are billions of other people in this world who don’t even have things as simple as clean water and indoor plumbing, who am I to be complaining about rusting forks? I’m lucky that I can even own a fork, that I can even get my fork to rust due to actually having the means to safely wash it! Compared to what I could be dealing with, I have absolutely no right, no reason at all, to be complaining over something as silly and stupid as a little, rusting fork!

So, needless to say, it was a humbling experience emptying the dishwasher yesterday, and from here on out, I don’t think I’ll ever complain about anything so trivial ever again. No, I have it all in perspective now, so (hopefully) I’ll never be so horrid as to take what I have for granted like that again.

Gosh, who’d ever imagine that a simple fork could give such a powerful lesson?


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