Awhile back I wrote a silly little post entitled The ABC’s of crap in my purse where I mentioned that since the purse was a gift from my generous sister, I really had no idea how much it cost. That is, until I dripped white paint (occupational hazard) and went shopping to find its replacement. I was quite shocked at the price and decided that I could live with a little spot of white on the otherwise brown leather bag. Besides, the more I looked at it, the more I convinced myself a little imperfection added character to that otherwise high brow handbag.
And then another thought occurred to me. A question, to be more specific: Does the price of the gift matter? Would I have been more careful with that gift had I understood its value?
To find out where this particular rabbit trail took me, read the rest of the story over at my friend Peter’s place, Rediscovering the Church