We went out to eat the other week and I grabbed a mint on the way out the door. Indeed, it was a mint-and-a-half.
That reminded me of my dad’s coin collection. He used to love collecting mutant coins that were mis-stamped in production. Sadly, in a sibling’s divorce, that collection was lost to the errant spouse.
Takeaway: what does this mean to us? Well, a few things:
1. How can we accept the “mutant” people around us?
2. How can we not just accept them — but appreciate the ways they approach life differently than we do?
3. This brings me to why I hate the word “tolerance”. That implies just putting up with someone. Isn’t it much better to love that someone? Even if it’s really hard to love them, the rewards can outweigh the pain.