Acknowledging Another
On Mondays, my husband and I not only sweat our way through the neighborhood, we snake our way through the smell; Monday is garbage pick-up day.
As we passed a truck this morning, we saw a gentlemen in his late 60s walk out of his front door to hand the garbage collector a few dollars. “It’s a small tip today,” he said, “but thank you.”
I have tipped bellhops, house cleaners, servers, taxi drivers, mail carriers, doormen. Never garbage collectors. Yet, of all the menial jobs a person can do, this so deserves something extra: a person whose job it is to serve up malodorous detritus into a steel maw — daily.
Said Mother Teresa, “Be generous and understanding. Let no one come to you without feeling better and happier when they leave. Be the living expression of God’s kindness: with kindness on your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile, kindness in your warm greeting.” Or as Ruma Bose writes in Mother Theresa CEO, “Be kind to the janitor.”
That’s what I saw this morning.
My neighbor took a moment to be kind to, to acknowledge our neighbor.
To be the see-er of his garbage collector’s magnificence.
I love hearing about spontaneous acts of generosity! Thanks for sharing.
Whitney,
I love this! So important. When I was growing up we were always taught to acknowledge and show appreciation to everyone. When I arrived in NYC from Central PA, I took this belief with me. Every morning I said “Good morning” and thank you for the guard at the bank in which I worked. His name was Egon. He was an older gentleman who had immigrated to New York from Eastern Europe. And I enjoyed our morning chats. One day he stopped me and he said, “I want to thank you for saying good morning and thank you to me. You are the only one who does it consistently. And it means alot to me.” I remember being baffled because I just assumed everyone did the same thing. Then I said, “Egon, but you have the gun. If anything happens, you’re the one who will protect us.” “Yes,” he said, “and I can tell you now who would be the first person I would save.” Just because I stopped everyday for 15 seconds to say three simple words, “hi,” and “thank you.”
And everybody is a potentially essential person in your network. I learned early in my school teaching career that the two people you befriend first at school are the head secretary and your room janitor. Those behind the scene jobs at any place of employment really keep things moving. These valuable friendships became something more years ago on the day a pipe burst in the middle of the night in the storage room connecting mine and a colleague’s science classrooms. I arrived at 7 am the first day of a new semester to find inches of water in my carefully prepared classroom. While my colleague bullied and bossed and insisted that it was a “janitor’s job” to take care of (with no small amount of disdain in her voice). When I calmly pitched in and helped . . . even bringing my husband down with loads of towels to help mop up, you can guess whose room was finished first. And the secretary busted her chops to arrange a place for my kids to meet for the day. The end result from that unexpected day was positive reports sent back to my boss who gave me full discretion to write up the insurance report which allowed us to replace some aging books and equipment. He also gave me broader responsibility, trust and choices later in the year. Kindness is a currency . . . and its long term benefits are often better than money.
When I was a senior at Brown living in a campus house, we had a janitor, Jim, that cleaned the place. He’d come in early, get the coffee started and knowing our class schedules, he’d knock on doors to make sure we were getting up for class. He chide us on how we left the kitchen, the bathrooms, bring soup when we were sick, just took care of us. When the college said they had to cut his hours because of money, we asked if we were able to make up the difference, would they keep him on? I forget the details of the arrangement, but it worked out. Jim may have been the university’s janitor, but he was our “big brother” on so many levels. He knew our parents, he knew our friends (and let us know if he approved or not) and he added an incredible dimension to our college experience. In looking back, it never occurred to us to be concerned about all us women alone in a house with a guy.
Moral of the story? Many times it is the “least” of our brethren amongst us that have the biggest impact.
How marvelous! All 3 stories above. Inspiring.
A beautiful tribute to the magnificence of each human being. I was touched by your post.
When my husband entered the partnership of a large accounting firm, he was told by the managing partner to not waste time on the little people. He found that addage so offensive on so many levels. He has over the years demonstrated to his colleagues, to his children and family that there are no little people. Each has a place and makes a contribution. Thank you Whitney for these beautiful reminders.
Leave a Reply