Beloved working-man

I read something yesterday. I didn't really read it. I glanced at it.

The theme of the article was true -- so far as it goes. This was the gist:

A man may work hard all of his life, maybe on a job he doesn't like, only to retire at 65 to do what he wants AFTER he has missed out on so much.

Yes, I know this happens. The theme of the article seemed to be: We must not work so hard.

I used to do career counseling and help people find work. I worked with some of the most wonderful people in the world.

I remember this one man who was a husband and a father who wasn't attached to what job he got, for it was his joy to think of his wife and children first. It was his joy to support his family. The perfect job for him was the job he got.

He wasn't sacrificing anything. What did he miss out on? Certainly not love for his family.

Working was his gift. He took joy from his work. He was happy for the privilege to work and support his family. He wasn't asking for the greatest job in the world. Whatever job he took, he gave good service to his employer, to himself, his family -- perhaps his family was himself.

I just know that this man sailed through life and served the world well. He didn't sacrifice, not at all. He gave his most to all and so served himself. Serving was his happiness.

I believe he was a salesman, and maybe he was a natural-born salesman. Maybe he was just lucky, yet I think he was his own good luck.

My feeling is that this man never complained about anything. He didn't see anything to complain about.

I know there are a lot of jobs I could not possibly be happy at. Fortunately, I became a teacher, and teaching gave me the opportunity to be creative and to work with children, and it was meaningful and freeing to me. And now, of course, I am so glad and fortunate to be doing what I am blessed to be doing.

That wonderful client I worked with was a hero to me, a simple everyday one. I forget his name. I can't picture what he looks like any more, but I will never forget him.