I first learned the art of trading in the suburbs. The neighbor behind me became my best friend. We both had similar dreams, to move to the country, grow our own food, and teach our children to nurture and care for the earth beneath our feet. God had it all planned out and this neighbor was my divine appointment for three years. We worked together on our two teeny plots of land (by little I mean less than a 1/4 acre) to care for our gardens and even attempted ducks and chickens in our tiny backyards (our other neighbors were thrilled that we introduced loud birds to the neighborhood). Our efforts never really produced enough to preserve, but we did learn the value of trading.
“Do you have any baking soda?” “Sure, could I borrow some apple cider vinegar?” These were our typical conversations, trading everything from onions to herbs.
I think back to the Little House on the Prairie books and how trading was just a part of the culture. No one was expected to do everything alone. Butter was traded for a new pair of shoes, men came together for a community barn raising, and women met in each other’s homes, investing time and fabric into making quilts for one another. What happened to this culture and how can I be a part of it?? I imagine that in those days, they were forced to rely on each other. Today, we have every modern convenience at our fingertips allowing us the ability to be independent and provide for ourselves. I love modern conveniences. My mixer saves my arms from kneading bread for ten minutes, my Instant Pot has saved me on more than one occasion when I forgot to plan dinner, and the internet has given me an education in all sorts of subjects. The problem comes when we let this modern world trick us into thinking we don’t need help or should feel embarrassed to ask for help (guilty). God never intended us to live void of community. Community and fellowship are life-giving for a reason, it is in our design.
This same dear friend visited me the other day. The dreams we once talked about as we sat on each other’s decks and drank coffee are now the dreams we are living today. We moved out to the country at the same time and began working toward larger gardens, orchards, and animals. Our trading sounds a little different now, “I’ll trade you 2 chickens, 2 buckets of pears and some bone broth for a bowl of grapes, some figs, and homemade hummus.” But the joys of sharing what we have are the same. That day we both left with arms and hearts full.
Perhaps you don’t have chicken eggs and bone broth to trade, but all of us have something to offer. We are all living in some form of abundance that we can share. So, come join me at the community table and let’s revive this lost art of trading.
~Amanda