There are a handful of sayings that I firmly believe to be true no matter what the circumstance. I know there’s an exception to every rule, but I believe these pithy sentiments are as certain as death and taxes. 

The first: “You get what you pay for.” 

When I was selling vacations, this was my all-time favorite line. It’s the equivalent of “stop being a cheapskate” and “trust me, I know what’s good,” all in one quip. My husband hears it at least three times a week.

The other sentiment is, “Nothing in life is bigger than the little things.” 

The ability to appreciate small things is the foundation of a life well-lived. If you can’t see the beauty in fresh sheets, a great song, or a piece of chocolate, what’s the point?

This first became clear to me in sixth grade. I attended a small Christian school growing up that had a “values camp” for middle-schoolers. The intention was for students to go spend three days camping, bonding, and doing various activities that would help form the bedrock of our character before the tumultuous high school years. 

In other words, it was the private school equivalent of a teenage rage prophylactic. 

I always craved independence, so the idea of spending three days in a tent with my best friend sounded like heaven. We would miss three days of school. We would get to make t-shirts. I was certain that Values Camp was going to be the pinnacle of my life experience to that point. 

My parents still joke about how excited I was to go to camp.

As anyone who has ever gone camping knows, this was not the pinnacle of my life experience. In fact, it was the opposite. My friend and I got in a fight, so she gave me the cold shoulder in our two-person tent. Sleeping on the ground turned out to be a drag. We had spaghetti that made me sick one night. Breakfast and lunch weren’t any better. The lessons were stupid. My t-shirt didn’t even turn out the way I wanted.

In short, values camp was the biggest disappointment of my young life. 

It was at this new low that I learned the value of something small. I remember my mom came to pick me up that Friday. I think she could see the defeat in my eyes. I’m certain I aired my grievances about the food, about the tent -- about the calamity of it all -- for most of the car ride home. 

My mom, in her infinite wisdom, knew there was only way to stop the bitter and vile words coming from her precious child. 

She bought me a double stack with cheese, fries, and a Frosty from Wendy’s.

No cheeseburger has ever been more satisfying, no fries have ever been so delicious, and no frosty as sweet as the day I came home from values camp. The food was a revelation to my being. I was a person, and camp wouldn’t define me. 

I could enjoy the simple things—and to hell with the rest of it.

As unlikely as this may seem, values camp was a turning point for me. I learned not to get my hopes up about things. I learned to have less excitement and expectation. In turn, I would be pleasantly surprised at many experiences that would have been a disappointment had I not had this change of heart. I learned that the appreciation of the little things we take for granted is where life’s true pleasure resides. 

In the hamster wheel of absurdity that is 2020, I lost sight of the little things. Everything this year has felt overwhelming, all-encompassing, and all-consuming. The pandemic, the police brutality, the protests, the election. The loss of life, loss of jobs, and loss of normalcy. The new normal didn’t have any space for anything smaller than heartbreak. 

Luckily for me, some unexpected small things -- a gift from a guest and a stellar review -- brought me such joy that I’ve seen the error of my ways. I’m back to reveling in the little things that make up the moments of our life. I’m back to hosting friends, even if we stay outside and socially distanced. I’m enjoying the change of season and reminding myself to relish the cup of coffee, new book, and fresh flowers. 

I’m hoping the small things will see me through, and I wish the same for you.