She always had a good time, the other girls said of Jessie- said it half enviously, some of them. Her home was an old fashioned, rather shabby house where the furnishing and the style of life was the plainest, but she welcomed her friends cordially, and shared with them what she had without pretense or apology.
She wore her plain clothes in the same way- prettily and daintily made, but inexpensive always- and made the most of whatever pleasures came her way without regard to appearing in costly array.
“You see, to get as much satisfaction out of everything as if you were independently rich,” said a discontented acquaintance one day. “I don’t see how you can.”
“Well, if I am not independently rich, I am independently poor, and I suppose that;s the next best thing,” laughed Jessie.
After all, it is the independence that counts rather than either wealth or poverty. The simplicity of standing just for what one is, without sham or pretense, lifts the burden of fret and anxiety, and leaves the spirit free.