Day 3, January 3

My husband, Larry, and I have two aging cars, 12 and 18 years old. Like me, they are showing their age. Dings, scratches, and hail dimples (not unlike cellulite) mar their once shiny surfaces. Creaks and groans occasionally occur when they are started. Both are well past the 100,000 mile mark.

Why, then, am I thankful for these cars? Several reasons, actually.

First, the cars are paid for. As the children of children of the Great Depression, Larry and I were taught to "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without." We chose used cars, paid cash, and never made a car payment on them.

Secondly, the cars perform a function. They take us to church, to work, to visit family. They allow us to perform errands, to drive a friend to the grocery store or doctor, to attend garage sales! In short, they do what they are supposed to do.

Lastly, they represent substance. Though they have lost much of their comely appearance, they remind me that substance trumps appearance every time. In a world where appearances are all-important, I am grateful for the reminder that in things, and in people, the inner workings are far more important than the outward trappings.

In this regard, I think of my father's hands. They were gnarled, the veins raised, the fingers bent, but they were beautiful to me. They symbolized a lifetime of hard work and care.

So, for today, I am grateful for old cars.