Edward Hays ~ Author, Artist & Storyteller
  • Home
  • Bio
  • Haystack Blog
  • Artwork
  • Novels
    • Pilate's Prisoner
  • Prayers
  • Stories
  • Spirituality
  • Advent & Christmas
  • Almanacs
  • Lent

The Garbage Man

4/17/2013

 

The Garbage Man

Picture
Dear old and new friends,

    Last week's reflection ended promising a story to enflesh it. Here is a parable-story written years ago. I suggest you observe the classic rule of all parables: Consume slowly, chew well and ponder deeply:

    Once there was a garbage man who worked in the little Midwestern town of Pleasant Hill. He drove a battered, blue Ford pickup truck with makeshift sideboards that rose twelve feet or more above the truck bed. He worked alone except for his ever-present companion, Spot, a white and brown dog with a ring around its eye. Spot was the friendliest dog in town and barked only at the other dogs that set up a racket whenever the garbage man appeared.

    He was a familiar town character, and the only name people called him was "the Garbage Man." The ladies who sat on their porches, wearing white linen dresses, said he was of "mixed blood." He wasn't black and he wasn't brown. He seldom spoke or was spoken to by those whose garbage and trash he hauled away. He was dirty and he smelled; it was, shall we say, a by-product of his profession. The only unique thing about the Garbage Man was the tattoo on the back of his weathered right hand —a red heart inscribed with the words, "I LOVE YOU."

    The Garbage Man drove daily up and down the alleys of the town, with Spot sitting next to him in the cab of the old pickup. He took an unusual interest in his work —not only did he empty the stinking and overflowing garbage cans that stood at the back gates and garages of homes, but he also picked up trash that people had dumped along the roadsides and in dry creek beds.

    The Garbage Man had made the town of Pleasant Hill not only pleasant but beautiful. While this was reason to admire his unique profession, the townsfolk thought he was not as admirable as he was "simple." Apparently he could not read or write, for he never sent a monthly bill for his work. He would graciously accept any payment from a customer, but some didn't think to pay him for months at a time. Others simply thought the removal of trash was one of the services provided by City Hall. And this voluntary pickup of trash along the roadway? Well, it was just another sign that he wasn't too bright.

    The Garbage Man and Spot lived alone, somewhere north of town. The gossip was that he was divorced or that his wife had left him. Small wonder—who would want to be married to a garbage collector? People did see him with a few friends at the end of the day before he headed out of town with his truckload of garbage. They were, well, the white trash of town—men and women that hung out around the bar and pool hall down by the railroad tracks.

    The Garbage Man was a mystery that aroused little curiosity, except from little children. As he drove down the alley with Spot's head hanging out the side window, the children would ask their mothers, "Where does that man take the garbage?" And their mothers, shooing their children out of the kitchen, would answer, "To the dump, dear. Now run outside and play." And that was the extent of the curiosity about the man of "mixed blood" with the heart tattooed on his right hand.

    The Garbage Man was reliable—most of the time. Sometimes he would fail to appear for several days. It was rumored that he went on drinking binges. But who wouldn't be tempted to get drunk, handling stinking garbage all day long? One day he failed to appear; that day grew into two, then four, then seven. The garbage cans of Pleasant Hill overflowed as trash, litter and junk spilled over into the alleys. The stink was terrible, and the complaints rose like high tide under a full moon.

    The part-time mayor—and full-time owner of the hardware store—and the town's police chief decided that they should go and see what had happened. They headed north out of town to find the Garbage Man. No one knew for sure where he lived, since no one had visited his small farm. The road ran through a timber of tall cottonwoods, and soon they saw a battered mailbox, half-falling off its post. Painted in crude, childlike letters on its side was "GARBAGE PICKUP." They turned off the county road on to a deeply rutted dirt track that led back into the timber. As they drove along, they could see pieces of paper and tin cans scattered along the side of the road.

    The road grew narrower and more rutted as they traveled back into the hills. Cresting a hilltop, the mayor slammed on the brakes of his car. He and the police chief gasped in disbelief! Before them was a little valley with a tumble-down, unpainted shack and a rickety, swaybacked barn in the center. But what held them in wordless shock was that the entire valley was filled with garbage—mountains of trash, cans and bottles, rusted bodies of old cars and broken-down furniture! The stench was breathtaking.

    As they drove down into the valley, between the towering mounds of garbage, the mayor kept repeating, "My God, my God—he took all the garbage home with him!" As their car came out of the end of the tunnel of trash, they saw Spot in front of the run-down house, sitting beside a giant pile of garbage. They got out of the car, but Spot didn't move or bark. She just sat and looked at them. When the two men came close, they saw it. Next to her paw, sticking out of a landslide of garbage, was a hand tattooed with a red heart and the words, "I LOVE YOU."

Tom Skorupa
4/21/2013 09:34:04 am

It's nice to revisit old friends, especially when they are the poignant parables of a master storyteller. I once had a friend who didn't shower often, and it was obvious, but it was still very much worth it to spend time with this friend.

This is not a comfortable parable, but there is "a lot to chew on," and I'm grateful to be exposed to it. Collecting peoples' trash, or putting one's fingers into their open wounds is not exactly a pleasant pastime, and taking those wounds/trash home with you is not exactly our culture's definition of the way to happiness or glory. Of course, I'd like to change the ending of the parable. I want the trash to have been recycled into a new form of usable/sustainable energy, and I greatly prefer the wounds to already have been gloriously transformed before I place my fingers into them. But, alas, when trying to learn how to love as Jesus did does not always allow that blessing. At the same time, to be perfectly honest, I'm only willing to take on the role of garbage man/wound-toucher if there is a reasonable expectation that it all, at least in time, will be transformed--and that starts with the hope/trust that, through grace, I can be part of that transformation not only with other peoples' trash/wounds but my own. In short, the love of the Garbage man only make sense to me if there is really "glory" in the cross, and there is only real glory if there is the "other side" if there is resurrection.

Dan Sanley
4/22/2013 02:51:28 am

On this Earth Day of 2013 let us remember the Garbage Man and believe in his Resurrection. He quietly gathered up all the garbage of his world unto himself, out of sight and gone forever for all. Borrowing words from Isaiah, “There was in him no stately bearing to make us look at him, nor appearance that would attract us to him. (Rather) he was spurned and avoided by people….one of those from whom people hide their faces, spurned and held in no esteem.” He did his calling without a need for personal gain and without boasting. Due this modesty his good deeds largely went unnoticed, yet his motivation was always there for all to see, proclaimed in a message displayed on his hand within red heart tattoo, “I love you.”

Happy Earth Day to you Ed, along with all of your old and new friends. Let us all remember the Garbage Man by making an oath to do our part to reduce the amount of garbage we generate, or at least to recycle, relieving any further stress on our planet. And should you see your personal garbage man, at least give him a cheerful hello and “thank you”.

Dan
5/6/2013 03:14:47 pm

When anyone gets a chance, please look up The Zabbaleen. These are the people of Cairo who clean up all the garbage. They are a Coptic Christian minority. They are known to be able to recycle 80% of all trash and have pigs to eat the organic portion. No one can do better. The best industrialized countries can do is recycle 20%. These people are now under heavier prosecution, their pigs have been killed, and Cairo garbage is piling up in the streets.


Comments are closed.


    Edward Hays


    Picture
    Haysian haphazard thoughts on the
    invisible and visible mysteries of life.

    Picture

    The Haystack


    Archives

    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    November 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    March 2013
    February 2013
    January 2013
    December 2012
    November 2012
    October 2012
    September 2012
    August 2012
    July 2012
    June 2012
    May 2012
    April 2012
    March 2012


    Categories

    All
    4th Of July
    Acedia
    Adam
    Advent
    Advertising
    Advice
    Affection
    Agape
    Agnostics
    Alleluia
    All Hallows Eve
    All Saints
    All Souls Day
    Alms
    Alone
    Alzheimer’s
    Amish
    Anger
    Anno Domino
    Apocalyptic
    Apostles' Creed
    April Fools
    Arrows
    Ashes
    Ash Wednesday
    Atheist
    Authenticity
    Awe
    Axe Handle
    Aztec Prayer
    Beauty
    Begging
    Belief
    Beliefs
    Believe
    Bethlehem
    Big Bang
    Blessing
    Blind Faith
    Bog
    Bondage
    Book Of Proverbs
    Born Again
    Boss
    Boundaries
    Brevity
    Broken Heart
    Bug
    Bull's-eye
    Bullying
    Carnival Of Grief
    Catalyst
    Caveman
    Celts
    Change
    Chaos
    Chardin
    Charity
    Cheating
    Child-Heart
    Chinese New Year
    Christmas
    Church
    Climate Change
    Clocks
    Coach Jesus
    Cold
    Commercialism
    Compassion
    Competition
    Conflict
    Congress
    Congress Of Fools
    Conscience
    Consumerism
    Cooking Food
    Cosmic Evolution
    Cosmic Prayers
    Cosmos
    Costumes
    Courage
    Cousins
    Cq
    Creation
    Creativity
    Cross
    Crucified Christ
    Crucifix
    Cupid
    Dalai Lama
    Dancing
    Daredevil
    Daring
    Dearly Beloved
    Death
    Debts
    Decisions
    Dementia
    Denial
    Depression
    Dieting Problems
    Disciples
    Discipline Of Listening
    Discovery Of Fire
    Disease
    Disobeying
    Disobeying Religious Laws
    Disruptive
    Divine Mystery
    Divine Presence
    Doctor
    Dogs
    Doomsday
    Doubt
    Dying
    Earth
    Easter
    Easter People
    Ecology
    Economy
    Ed's Funeral Homily
    Ed's Memorial Card
    Elderly
    Emancipation
    Emmanuel
    Emmaus
    Empathy
    Enjoyment Of Life
    Enslaved
    Entombed
    Environment
    Envy
    Eq
    Equality
    Eros
    Erotic Attraction
    Eroticism
    Escape
    Eternity
    Euthanasia
    Evil
    Evil Eye
    Excellence
    Expectations
    Explorer
    Eyesight
    Faith
    Family
    Fear
    Fear Not
    Fear Of Loss
    Fences
    Flu
    Flying Off The Handle
    Fools
    Forever
    Forgetfulness
    Forgiveness
    Freedom
    Free Will
    Friendship
    Frustration
    Funeral Homily
    Galaxy
    Galilean Teacher
    Gandhi
    Genealogy
    Generosity
    Gift Of Ears
    Gift Of Tongues
    Gimmick
    Giving
    Godlike
    God Of Love
    God Within
    Good Better Best
    Good Friday
    Grain Of Salt
    Gratitude
    Growing Down
    Grudges
    Gullible
    Gut Feeling
    Habit
    Halloween
    Hallucinations
    Happiness
    Happy New Year
    Harassment
    Haystack
    Haywire
    Healing
    Health
    Hearing
    Heart
    Heartache
    Heaven
    Helen Keller
    Holiday
    Holy Spirit
    Holy Thursday
    Home
    Homesickness
    Homogenized Spirituality
    Homosexuality
    Honest
    Hope
    Hunger
    Hunters And Gatherers
    Hurrying
    Hyacinths
    Hypnotic
    Iceburg Spirituality
    Icon
    Ill Will
    Immigrant
    Imprisoning Habits
    Incarnation
    Infallibility
    Influenza
    Injustice
    Inspiration
    Interruptions
    Intoxicating
    Iq
    Ireland
    Islam
    Jealousy
    Jesus
    Jesus The Challenger
    Jingo
    Job
    John The Baptist
    Joy
    Joy As Gratitude
    Judge
    July 4th
    Justice
    Karl Barth
    Karl Marx
    Kindergarten
    Kindness
    Kingdom
    King Solomon
    Kkk
    Kowtow
    Last Supper
    Learning To Unlearn
    Lent
    Letters
    Letting Go
    Liberation
    Listening
    Live
    Loneliness
    Lonely
    Loony Rabbi
    Lord's Prayer
    Lottery Rule
    Lottery Winner
    Love
    Love Of Self
    Lover
    Mad Delusions
    Mad Messiah
    Madness
    Mantra
    Manure/dung
    Mark Twain
    Marriage
    Martin Luther King
    Mascara
    Masks
    Meditate
    Memories
    Mennonite
    Merry
    Mindfulness
    Miracle
    Miraculous
    Mirages
    Misbehavior
    Mohandas Gandhi
    Money
    Moon
    Mother As Teacher
    Multiverse
    Mystic Merriment
    Naked
    Natural Creed
    Natural Disasters
    Near-sighted
    Needle
    Neighborhood
    Newness
    New Wine
    New Year
    No Littering
    Nonbelievers
    Nostalgia
    Obituary
    Olympic Games
    Olympics
    Open Minded
    Oppressor
    Our Father
    Out Of The Woods
    Overweight
    Pain
    Palestinian
    Parable
    Paradise
    Passion
    Peace
    Penance
    Pentecost
    Pious
    Play
    Playfulness
    Poison
    Possessions
    Poverty Of Spirit
    Prairie Spirituality
    Pray
    Prayer
    Precrastination
    Prejudices
    Pretending
    Primitive Tendencies
    Purpose
    Pyromaniac
    Quantum
    Question
    Quiet
    Reality
    Reconciled
    Recycling
    Religious Experience
    Religious Garb
    Renaissance
    Reputation
    Resurrection
    Revolution
    Rich And Poor
    Risen Christ
    Ritual
    Robert Frost
    Robin Williams
    Robot
    Rumi
    Sainthood
    Saline Savior
    Salt Of The Earth
    Samurai
    Sanctuary
    Santa Claus
    Scapegoat
    Self-deceit
    Sensuality
    Shiite
    Shinto Monks
    Signs
    Silence
    Sinning
    Slavery
    Smile
    Solar System
    Solitary Confinement
    Solitude
    Solstice
    Soul
    Souvenir
    Space
    Spark Of Madness
    Speech
    Spirit
    Spirit Of The Holy
    Spiritual Renewal
    Sports
    Spring
    Spring Renaissance
    St. Benedict
    St. Nicholas
    Stories
    Stranger
    Strength
    Struggles
    Submissive
    Suffering
    Suffering As A Toy
    Summer Solstice
    Sunni
    Sunrise
    Sunset
    Symbols
    Sympathy
    Tale
    Tears
    Technology
    Television
    Temporary Insanity
    Thanksgiving
    Thank You
    The Last Psalm
    Thinking & Acting
    Thirst
    Thomas Edison
    Thoughts Equal Deeds
    Time
    Touch
    Trash
    Traveling
    Trick-or-treat
    Trip
    Trust
    Truth
    Truthfulness
    Unbelievers
    Unethical Behavior
    Unhappiness
    Universe
    Untruth
    Vacation
    Vaccination
    Valentine's Day
    Valentine's Gift
    Valley Of The Blind
    Vatican
    Violent Behavior
    Virus
    Visionary
    Visiting
    Vow Of Poverty
    War
    Wastefulness
    Way Of The Cross
    Wealthy
    Wellness
    Whimsical Spirituality
    Winter Solstice
    Wishes
    Women
    Wonder
    Woods
    Work
    Wrestling With God
    Writing
    Zealot
    Zen
    Zeus


    RSS Feed


Home

Blog


Biography

Stories & Parables


Contemporary Spirituality

Pilate's Prisoner


Daily Almanacs

Novels


​Lent

Prayers & Psalms
Christmas & Advent

​Artwork

Copyright © 2021 Thomas Turkle. All rights reserved.