By Ashlie Miller

Another Friday evening, and I think my Aunt Sandi is scouring the online and printed ads for yard sales in the area. She often hopes for a sale that will keep both her and her chauffeur-husband interested — they both are looking for different things.

For many, hosting a yard sale is a daunting task because it means another d-word — decluttering! I had been wanting to purge our attic and some other storage areas for months, but with homeschooling as my priority, I had to put a yard sale on the back burner. Yet, I would often toss random things into piles, bins or corners of the garage. Finally, the day came (actually, because I was desperate to purge, two days came!). I was one of the few who decided to try a Friday pre-sale.

Unless having yard sales is regular supplemental income, many of us do not look forward to nor anticipate much from them. Other than looking for treasures myself at someone else’s yard sale, I don’t usually expect to unveil beauty in hosting one. But what special treasures we did uncover! We met new neighbors — or rather, new to us. In the hustle and bustle of life, it is common to go months or even years without meeting neighbors. We were able to bless others by charging pennies for items. However, some friends and loved ones generously supported our efforts by giving more than we cared to charge them: “It’s to help the kids because I know most of this will go to them.”

There were special finds that some were looking for specifically. What a joy to help them on their quest — shoes still in excellent condition but too quickly outgrown by our household; lovely outfits for the graduation of a loved one the next day; a cedar hope chest for a high schooler.

The showstopper ended up being a banged-up craft table covered in old, rusty tools. I priced them low because they just needed to go. Every man (and some children and women) slowed their pace as they approached that table. One gentleman said he liked the smell of those corroded tools because they reminded him of his grandpa and the home and tools he had to leave behind in pursuit of a better life.

There were other memorable moments — a lady came looking for nothing in particular until she saw our table of free Bibles. She asked, “How much? My husband just came to Christ, and we were talking yesterday about trying to find him a Bible he could read and understand.” “Free,” my husband and I replied. She walked away with two versions her husband could read. She thought she came looking for someone else’s old treasures, but she walked away with something far more priceless.

Even though we were decluttering the home in hopes of making a little money to redo the children’s rooms, bargaining with me was still pretty easy. My daughter was watching, unbeknownst to me, as I negotiated with a lady over some children’s clothes, finally giving her more than she could reasonably pay for so she could bless her grandchildren. “Momma, I saw what you did there. That was really nice,” my daughter observed. “Well, I think that was the true goal of all this, after all, wasn’t it?” I replied.

At the end of those two hot days in May, I was blessed more than I could have blessed anyone else. My body was tired, and we certainly didn’t make nearly enough to redecorate the room of anyone’s dreams, but I walked away refreshed and rich in spirit.

But make no mistake, I will not be hosting another yard sale anytime soon — it’s the hot, humid South, after all!

Ashlie Miller lives with her husband and children in Concord.