The Power of Three
A Warm Welcome to Chicago
“What brings you to Chicago?” the lone, older woman at the Budget rental car counter asked.
She offered it genuinely, but my issue was this: I’d waited in a fairly long line to get to this moment, and behind me were ten more folks waiting to get their rental car. Any measure of small talk chit-chat was bound to slow the utmost measure of efficiency that everyone wanted.
“We’re moving here, actually…” I heard myself say. The honest answer. We’re moving from Georgetown, TX to Chicago, IL this summer.
“I’m meeting the moving van to help get everything into our new house,” I finished.
“Well, welcome!” she smiled.
“Yeah… I’m from Cincinnati originally. The Midwest kinda feels like coming home.”
Apparently I had become the small talk chit-chat person risking the wrath of all behind me. I let my sentence trail off, however, signaling the end of my thoughts – and the beginning of a car rental business only portion of the conversation.
The woman then opened her eyes wide. “I’ll tell you, my sister and I talked about this once and we agree 100%: if we ever move again, there’s one rule - three of everything. No more, no less.”
She saw my confused look as permission to go on, now dropping the car rental processing entirely and letting her hands join in to help offer her highly animated insight.
“Look, think about it. We only use three of anything we own. Forks? You use the top three in your drawer. Nothing below that. Ever!” she shouted with a high-pitched exclamation point.
“Coffee mug. Bet you got dozens. How many do you use? That’s right! Three. Three!” Now she was rolling.
“My husband has all these t-shirts. Know how many of em’ I see on him. Three. Three! Why don’t you wear you smiley face t-shirt? I asked him the other day. Whaddya mean? He says. And I go, because you gonna wear that one anyway. It’s one of your three!”
She paused. “You see. Seriously. We only use three of everything we have. And last I moved all I remember are the boxes and boxes and boxes. Way more than three of each thing.”
She shook her head then resumed, “Just three. Make it so much easier.”
I nodded and smiled, “So true. I can’t argue with that logic at all.”
“The Power of Three,” I call it. “I should make a t-shirt with that on it,” and her eyes looked up as if to consider if she really might do it.
“You should,” I said. “And then make clear to everyone who buys it, this is one of the three t-shirts you’re allowed to have.”
She liked that, and even though she had resumed getting my car rental secured, she seemed utterly oblivious to the very real line still awaiting her.
It stressed me out every time I sensed a grumbling behind me. But her? Totally at home with the Power of Three vibe.
Simple.
Just the right amount.
Far less baggage.
Maybe trying out the Power of Three on possessions changes the way we carry ourselves in other parts of life?
“You have an intermediate car,” she said, returning to the rental business. So, a Ford Fusion or maybe an Avalon. “You gonna need more room for this move?”
“The moving truck has our stuff so I don’t need more space,” I replied.
She nodded, and immediately I regretted not taking the chance to say, “But if you’ve got a free upgrade…”
“How is your own car getting here?” she asked as she finalized my reservation details.
“Oh… we’re shipping it,” I said.
“I had a customer here just last week,” she said, animated afresh. “From Phoenix. Had a car he was shipping to Chicago. Real high-end. And when it arrived to Chicago it had 3000 miles on it that were not there when it left Phoenix.”
Her eyes got big, and she continued “And ooh… he was hot. He was so hot. He was here at the counter telling how this had all just happened to him and he was angry capital A!” she exclaimed as her head shook back and forth in humored pity for the guy.
Then she added, “Said the moving truck was investigating it but I told him there’s nothing to investigate. They drove that car All. Over. The. Country!”
I shook my head.
“Three,” she then smiled. “See…he shoulda had three cars, not one. Ha!”
She then handed me my paperwork and pointed me toward the parking garage.
“Your parking spot is J16. Welcome home,” she smiled once more.
I thanked her, turned into the garage, and walked to J16 where I found a mid-size SUV awaiting me.
And I wondered once more if there isn’t something to simplicity, to less, to lightness...
Something that opens one’s whole way of being unto the kind of…
presence undeterred by the long lines,
humor more substantial than stuff,
generosity that bestows favor with ease and likely rests easy at night knowing a different kind of treasure continues to fill unto overflowing.
The Power of Three.
The long-time pastor who resides in me could not help but smile as I got situated in the mid-size SUV. Because every single time she said “The Power of Three,” I had not been able to think of anything other than “Trinity.”
Which, honestly, didn’t feel too far off.
I felt deeply blessed arriving home.
And the car rental experience was no small part of that grace.
Georgetown will miss you.
Your humor, and deep wisdom
Father, so and Spirit.
Glad you’re back on substack. What’s up with Chicago?