Recently, the state of Louisiana passed a law making it illegal for consumers to pay for second-hand goods with cash. This caught my eye because I am one of those people who shops primarily at second hand stores, yard sales and flea markets.

One of the things we used to do with our girls when they were younger was to spend a Sunday afternoon wandering around the Berlin Mart – a local flea market. Each girl would get $10, and they could purchase whatever they wanted (within reason). We would walk up and down the aisles, looking at trinkets and things from people’s attics, exclaiming over each ‘treasure’ as we found it. We never found a lost Van Gogh or a Cartier brooch, but we had a good time.

Many of the pieces of furniture in my house were purchased at yard sales. Some I have had for 30 years and they still fit in the scheme of things. A table here, a picture frame there. We never bought a real, official matching bedroom suite. I did buy a sofa, loveseat and chair a few years ago, but that was the first time in my life. It wasn’t really as much fun shopping for that set as I had at countless yard sales.

Although the Louisiana law does not prohibit second-hand sales by non-profit organizations (such as Goodwill), it seems to be extremely intrusive, as well as just plain silly. Most people I know today don’t have the funds they used to have, and in many cases can’t afford to purchase new items. There are also so many people who need to supplement their income at a critical point by selling things they own. This has always been kind of an “American Way” to solve our own problems, in my mind.

I realize that the supposed intent in passing this law was to prevent the sale of stolen goods. But actually, I don’t think that will put a dent in any illegal activities. I don’t recall ever seeing an AK47 or a bunch of fur coats at my local consignment shop. You don’t normally find 8 flat screen TV’s on someone’s lawn for sale on a Saturday afternoon. And I really can’t imagine most consignment shops or yard sales providing a great place to sell off stuff from a burglary.

What most yard sales and consignment shops provide is a way for people to afford things that they either want or need. Things they wouldn’t be able to have otherwise. Whether it is a frying pan or a toaster or a pretty dress, why make it more difficult for us to buy those things? Can you imagine going to a yard sale and having to pay for that $1 sweater with a credit card, check or money order?

I met a woman once in a thrift store near my home. We were both looking at overcoats. She had a sweet, tired face, and thin shoulders that looked as if they had carried the weight of her world for too many years. She was looking at a red wool coat. Really a lovely coat, with a black velvet collar. As she tried it on, her face suddenly was lit with joy from somewhere deep inside. She buttoned each button slowly, ran her hands up and down the sleeves, and caressed the velvet collar, lost in a world of her own.

As she looked up, she noticed me watching her and she blushed. I told her that I thought the coat looked wonderful on her, and she seemed to really like it. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if to say “Mine, mine, mine” and told me her story.

As a young child, she was one of 8 children. They were very poor, and life was hard. She knew this, and yet knew there wasn’t much anyone could do about it. Her mother and father worked hard, there just never seemed to be enough to go around. She only thought about it when she was at school. So many of the other children had nice things, and she was ashamed of her old clothes.

One day, as she was playing in the park with her friends, she saw a car pull up outside a store across the street. A big black car. And as she watched, she saw a little girl get out of the back seat. She couldn’t help staring at the girl – she was so pretty. Like a doll. And she was wearing the most beautiful coat she had ever seen. A bright, cherry red coat with a black collar. Shiny black patent leather shoes and white socks with lace on the top. She looked so warm and pretty and happy! A woman who was obviously her mother got out of the car and took her hand. She, too, looked like an angel. She was slim and looked like she would smell wonderful. She had a little hat covered in violets on her head, and her coat matched the flowers. The man with them was tall, and wore a real suit and overcoat, complete with a fancy hat on his head. When they stood together, she thought it was like looking at a picture in a book – something beautiful and not real. At least, not in her world.

The years passed, but she always remembered that red coat on the pretty little girl. It seemed to represent a life that could never, ever be hers. And as she grew older, her life was just like it was growing up. Always a lot of hard work, and never enough to go around. Every day a struggle, and many days it just seemed like things would never really get better.

But today, she found a red coat. Such a simple thing. A coat that someone else no longer had a use for. But to this woman, owning this coat, wearing this coat, was like the realization of a dream. Was a moment just for her that allowed her to close her eyes and wrap the coat around her and imagine better days. Something that represented so much lost and so much wished for.

She wore that coat to the check out line. Paid for the coat in cash, refusing to take it off. As she opened the door of the store to leave, her eyes met mine for one more moment. They were the eyes of a little girl, shining and bright, believing in magic and miracles once again.

It would be a shame if a law that can’t possibly make a dent in the sale of stolen merchandise instead makes it impossible for another woman somewhere to find her red wool coat.

This article was written by Sandi Tuttle. To get more great advice from Diva Toolbox Media Diva Sandi Tuttle, visit her website at: http://homebadger.com/