Being thrifty without hoarding

Inside an upright freezer without electricity for five days, several pounds of sausage and ground meat, three turkeys, a pork loin and a hen sat spoiled.

Standing next to it in the garage, an equally powerless refrigerator held numerous half-gallons of melted ice cream, including no-sugar-added varieties that Verna Joubert bought to satisfy her cravings and kowtow to her diabetes.

And in the house, the kitchen fridge, also made impotent by Hurricane Ike, was packed with three dozen jumbo eggs, a pound of butter, loaves of bread and other staples.

When her sister dragged a garbage can to her front door to clean out the house refrigerator on the fifth day after the storm, Joubert let her throw away everything, but she protested pitching the rancid butter.

``I just couldn't believe all that food went bad. I thought I could still use the butter for some baking or something,'' she said to explain the butter battle.

But, then in the midst of the argument, she realized something.

``I was just hoarding,'' Joubert said last week. ``It took Hurricane Ike to give me a wake-up call about my hoarding.''

She cleaned out the garage appliances on her own to drive home the life lesson. Then, she donated money through her church to the Houston Food Bank and to buy blankets for people without permanent homes.

``I just hate that it took me so long to get to this point,'' she said. ``There's no use for someone having this much stuff and all these other people going around hungry.''

Storms of all kinds

Storms of all kinds hit many of us in 2008. There were those that literally damaged our homes and ruined material possessions. Others destroyed our sense of financial security by walloping our stock portfolios and retirement investment accounts.

A natural response to such disasters is to prepare for the next calamity by stockpiling water and nonperishable food or stuffing money into a mattress.

But water and food can go bad no matter how airtight the seals on the plastic or aluminum containers. And money in the mattress will not grow to keep up with inflation.

The lesson of such disasters should be: reject hoarding, embrace thriftiness.

The American Dream

Thrift is the bedrock of the American Dream. It takes virtuous saving and sacrificing to purchase a home, pay off a mortgage and pass it on to the next generation.

It's not the equivalent of being cheap. It is a determination to do without to achieve something greater than what instant gratification can provide.

Joubert's thrift is helping her shed her hoarding habits. Instead of buying more stuff for relatives that they did not need, she shopped her own shelves for Christmas gifts.

A daughter received a full-set of china, another gold-rimmed wine and water glasses, and a granddaughter got a crystal clock.

``I gave the children things that they have seen in my home for many years and that they had expressly said they would like to have,'' she said.

``My house is too full. They will use them, and I will be able to see them use them. I don't want to die for them to get them.''

Joubert is living her commitment to downsizing. That should be the top financial goal of every American this year.

Being generous

With the economic forecast remaining bleak for just about every sector, it will be wise to have enough in savings to cover six months of expenses.

And then examine your life and home for things that can be shed to benefit others. One of the best ways to feel rich in spirit and pocket is to share what you have with others.

The thrifty life could be the most generous incarnation of your existence so far.

shannon.buggs@chron.com