We come by business naturally in our family. Each of the seven children in our
family worked in our father's store, "Our Own Hardware-Furniture Store," in
Mott, North Dakota, a small town on the prairies. We started working by doing
odd jobs like dusting, arranging shelves and wrapping, and later graduated to
serving customers. As we worked and watched, we learned that work was about more
than survival and making a sale.
One lesson stands out in my mind. It was shortly before Christmas. I was in the
eighth grade and was working evenings, straightening the toy section. A little
boy, five or six years old, came in. He was wearing a brown tattered coat with
dirty worn cuffs. His hair was straggly, except for a cowlick that stood
straight up from the crown of his head. His shoes were scuffed and his one
shoelace was torn. The little boy looked poor to me--too poor to afford to buy
anything. He looked around the toy section, picked up this item and that, and
carefully put them back in their place. Dad came down the stairs and walked over
to the boy. His steel blue eyes smiled and the dimple in his cheek stood out as
he asked the boy what he could do for him. The boy said he was looking for a
Christmas present to buy his brother. I was impressed that Dad treated him with
the same respect as any adult. Dad told him to take his time and look around. He
did.
After about 20 minutes, the little boy carefully picked up a toy plane, walked
up to my dad and said, "How much for this, Mister?"
"How much you got?" Dad asked.
The little boy held out his hand and opened it. His hand was creased with wet
lines of dirt from clutching his money. In his hand lay two dimes, a nickel and
two pennies-- 27 cents. The price on the toy plane he'd picked out was $3.98.
"That'll just about do it," Dad said as he closed the sale. Dad's reply still
rings in my ears. I thought about what I'd seen as I wrapped the present. When
the little boy walked out of the store, I didn't notice the dirty, worn coat,
the straggly hair, or the single torn shoelace. What I saw was a radiant child
with a treasure.
Author unknown. If anyone has a proprietary interest in this story please
authenticate and I will be happy to credit, or remove, as the circumstances
dictate.
Thanks to LolaConley@aol.com
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