I’m eating a chocolate in the car because I thought I deserved a spoil.

 

And then I see you.

 

You’re old. You’re tired. You’re doing your boss/colleague/partner’s bidding, tending to something at the back of the truck.

 

I wish I could exchange places with you for a moment. You worked physically hard today while I was behind my laptop. And now I’m eating chocolate in an air conditioned car while you’re labouring in the heat.

 

I know you’re a hard worker. I know there’s no thought in your mind of not getting up for work again tomorrow. Yes, you need the money, but hard work is part of who you are.

 

Yes,  I work hard too. But in my environment employers think about job satisfaction, developing their teams’ potential and giving incentives. I think you simply work hard because it’s what you do…and have to do.

 

I’m thankful for the job God provided where I can use skills I love. I wish I knew what you would have chosen if you had the opportunity.

 

I can’t change your life. I know our decisions-yours too-determine where we end up. And perhaps others in high paying jobs feel exactly as you do at the end of a Friday afternoon.

 

I can’t exchange places with you. But I can give you respect. You’re worth just as much as me, the millionaire in the BMW next to us and the teenagers dancing at the intersection in the hope I’ll give them a few coins.

 

I will respectfully smile if I pass you in the shops, because that’s what we all would want. And I hope it will turn your tired eyes into smiling ones, even if just for a second.

 

I salute you.

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