Waste not, want not--Part #1.

Those of us who are children of immigrants grew up hearing our parents tell us not to be a "baal tashchis." This was mostly said in reference to food. To waste food, to throw food away was almost the ultimate sin. As the immigrants settled into the US and began to make more money some things changed, but being a "baal tashchis" was not one of them. Waste was anathema.

Wrapping paper from gifts was carefully removed for reuse, as were ribbons and bows. Lists and notes were written on the back of envelopes. Paper and plastic bags from the grocery were saved and reused.Old newspapers were perfect for peeling potatoes onto, for covering a wet floor after it had been washed so people could walk on it and for wrapping things to be put in storage. Pencils were used until you were down to the eraser. Pens were used until there was no more ink left in them. Clothes that were outgrown by children in one branch of the family were given good use by children in another branch of the family. Women shared maternity clothes. In short, most things had a "second life" if not a third or fourth life. Today we are socially conscious and call this "recycling." Back "in the olden days" this was avoiding being a "baal tashchis."

A bruise on an apple did not mean you threw away the whole apple; you cut out the bruised part and ate the rest or cooked or baked with it. Wilted celery (if there was such a thing) found its way into soup. A soft spot on a pepper or tomato? Again, you cut it out and used the rest. Chicken feet were used for making soup, and even the lungs found their way into cooked dishes. Kishka didn't use plastic wrap for the outside--it used the actual cow's kishkes to be stuffed. Cow's foot bones were used for "p'tche" and other dishes that were considered delicious. There really was no such a thing as leftovers. Anything remaining from one meal found its way to the next. And for the most part, when you came to the table you ate what was put down in front of you. If you didn't like it, better luck at the next meal. I never went to bed hungry as a child, nor did I consider myself as poor and lacking. Everyone I knew was careful about waste, even those with money.

Prosperity in America made many positive changes in people's lives. I am not convinced that becoming "baalei tashchis" is one of them. My mother put out a barely full garbage can once a week. We have twice a week pickup for garbage, and with recycle cans as well, my neighborhood seems to average 4-5 cans a week per house. I would guess this is the norm rather than an exception.

I'm going to continue posting on this idea later, but I wanted to introduce it so that any readers here could start thinking about what "baal tashchis" means today, to them. It's Elul and we are taking stock of our lives. Where have we become wasteful, and what can we do to improve in this area, not only personally but in the workings of Klal?