One August afternoon, I sat in my kitchen staring at a glass vase that hadn’t seen daylight since my wedding.

My husband and I had just sold our house and we were busy ___41___ the beloved home our family had spent 23 years filling up. We had decided on key items for the ___42___ we were moving to in town, donated what we could, and rented a place to ___43___ our supposedly important objects. That left a house still ___44___ with things that, while not particularly ___45___, didn’t belong in a landfill (垃圾填埋场).

I took a picture of the vase and posted it online, for $10. A couple of messages came in, one wanting additional ___46___, another asking for a price cut. As our ___47___ day drew near, I settled on a new price ($0) and reposted it. The ___48___: “I hate this vase. Maybe you won’t.” In an instant, a woman raced into my house and left happily with the vase.

___49___, I posted more. My daily posts and the ___50___ I received became a precious ray of light in the chaos of my house. Each exchange provided a chance to ___51___ the landfill and to please another person I might not otherwise have ___52___.

I sit in my apartment today, loving each of the ___53___ that share our small space. I take ___54___ in knowing that, somewhere nearby, someone is ___55___ something that couldn’t come with us.