Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Humble beginnings keep you root bound.

When I was a young boy I would go with my Grandmother every Friday night to her part time job. She would clean offices for some professional folks in town. I would get bored in a hurry and try to find something to keep me entertained.

I would check out each office to find something interesting. Generally each section would have a front office and a larger back office. The front office would have nothing fun. If you would find something it would be the more fancier back office.

The back office would have carpeting and dark wood paneling. Some would reek of cigarette smoke, stale perfume and have faded out landscape pictures hanging on the walls. File folders would be piled up on a fancy oak table. Nothing of any interest to this young kid.

But there was one office that always intrigued me. The dude collected specialized toy trains and other collectibles and had them displayed on fancy bookshelf s. You could tell he did better than the others. His office had a classy feel and felt totally out of reach in the reality of the world to this young mind.

After while I would go right past the other offices and go straight into his on future cleanings and hang out there until grandma was done. Every once in a while I would sit in the fancy leather chair and put my little shoes on top of the dark walnut desk and act like a big shot. Grandma would look in to check on me and say “Kevin get your dirty shoes off there, you know better then that!” and turned around and snicker.

Then one day while I was hiding out under the desk I hit my head on some kind of lever thing. It looked like it could be activated by using your knee. I always had a mind like a curious cat and had to find out what this thing was for.

I followed the wire from it into a lower drawer. When I opened it there was a tape recorder. Even these young eyes and mind could figure this out. After finding the recording contraption the office lost all of it's luster to me. The room felt like a evil tomb. I learned that day about dishonest people working with dishonest people.

From that point on I was proud of my roots. We might not have all the fancy material things these folks have but I wouldn't give up humble beginnings where the spiritual is truly spiritual. And the path is not paved with gold but honesty.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please leave a comment if you like. Also please be nice and courteous to all readers. Thank You.