It is interesting to look at the lines between ownership and borrowing. Benjamin likes to go to the library and pick out a few joke books. He takes them along on his morning commute, and makes good use of them to get his brothers and sisters laughing when they call. But although the books are not his, the humor is. Sort of. 

I bought a clutch of board books to give to my granddaughter for Christmas. Don't tell her. Although come to think of it she has no proprietary awareness to kick in. Her parents will read them to her, and she will perhaps chew on them for a year or three until her mother decides to pass them along. 

Last month John made a pot full of butternut squash soup to feed a small crowd. I took a different kind of pride in the detail that the vegetables grew on our land, rather than being traded for cash at the grocery store. They were ours, even though the sum total of effort we put into their existence was smaller than a grape seed. 

There is now a small library of quilts at the pastor's office. Staff are welcome to bring one to someone who needs a dose of tangible comfort, where it will live on the couch for a month. Then it will find its way back to the office until the next person is gifted with a turn. My hope is that the accumulated affection will seep into the fabric, increasing their ability to keep someone warm. 

I guess the lines between ownership and borrowing are more permeable than I thought. In honor of that I will usurp one of Benjamin's jokes. 

"What is gray, holds flowers and cheers you up when you are sick?"

"A get welephant."