Harold is initially thrilled to see his son lead his basketball team to victory, but his happiness soon wanes when he acts rudely toward an elderly cleaning lady. However, he doesn’t lose any time in coming up with a plan to teach his son to respect other people!
Being a parent involves several challenges. One moment you might be overcome with pride in your child and the next by their unacceptable behavior.
That’s exactly what happened to me on Saturday. I had to give my son Jake a harsh reality check for what he did while we were out having a good time, even though he assisted his basketball team in defeating one of their toughest opponents.
We went inside Jake’s favorite restaurant in the middle of the afternoon; it was a quaint little diner that served the greatest apple pie in town. We were immediately greeted by the delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee and hamburgers cooking on the grill.
“Looks like this is the only free table,” I whispered to Jake as we approached a partially cleared table.
Jake squinted around the table, glaring at the takeout cups, used straws, and burger wrappers scattered all over it. What he did next totally caught me off guard.
An elderly woman was sweeping the floor nearby. As it happened, she looked very sorry for herself, holding the mop in one hand and her walking stick in the other.
Jake waved in her direction. “Hey, old lady!” he exclaimed to her. “Observe this unclean table. Come clean it now.”
The old woman and I both gave Jake a disbelieving look.
“Oh, of course,” the older woman replied. Carefully, she set the mop inside the bucket and walked toward us.
She staggered over and slumped off to one side, even with her cane supporting her for balance. It seemed like she moved too slowly for Jake.
He snarled, “It’s so sad.”
I was amazed to see Jake pick up the trash from our table and toss it on the ground.
Shaking his head, Jake said, “Let’s see if you can actually do your job.” He pointed to the scattered rubble on the floor. “Pick it up!”
My heart sank when I saw the tears welling up in her eyes. She started to pick up the litter, kneeling and using her walking stick for support.
A wave of embarrassment and wrath passed over me. In response to my son’s impolite behavior, I thought of just one thing I could do, so I reached out to touch Jake.
My hand grabbed a half-full bottle of cola that had eluded Jake as he tipped the remaining trash onto the floor. I let the contents drop to the ground and looked up into Jake’s eyes.
Jake laughed mockingly as his expression brightened. “Yes, Dad! Let’s teach this old lady good work ethics.”
“Oh, someone will definitely be learning a lesson here,” I replied. I held up my hand and turned to face the manager who was manning the counter.
“Excuse me!” I shouted. “Chief? We have a problem here.
The elder woman said, “Please, sir, don’t report me,” as she yanked at my coat and spread out. “I promise your table will be sparkling clean soon.”
My heart hurt to see the tears rolling down her cheeks. I couldn’t help but want to tell her that everything was OK and she shouldn’t be concerned.
Jake replied in an angry voice, “Gramma, it should have been cleaned before we arrived.”
At that point, the manager arrived.
“Good afternoon to all of you. What seems to be the current problem?” He asked.
“This woman moves too slowly,” remarked Jake. Our table was pretty dirty when we initially arrived, and I watched her spend ten minutes mopping a little square foot of the floor. It’s time to put her out to pasture.
The supervisor averted his gaze. He looked up at the cleaning lady, but I cut him off before he could say anything.
“My son meant to convey that he’s offering to assist here as a cleaner for the upcoming week. He will be paid by this woman here.” I gestured to the old lady sobbing on the ground.
“Dad, you can’t be serious!” Jake looked at me like I was crazy. “This old woman—”
“Deserves your respect!” I got angry. “How dare you treat her like this when she’s clearly working hard to keep this place clean?”
“Because she’s too slow.” Jake’s mouth tensed. Additionally, too old. Look at her! What part does she play in this firm, given that she can’t walk correctly?”
You should not be asking questions about that. She obviously has her reasons, and your counterargument just strengthens my points.” I had to meet the management again. “Do you agree to my proposition, sir?”
“I do.” He gave her a sign of encouragement and leaned down to help the old lady from the ground. “What do you think, Mrs. Roberts?”
The older woman, Mrs. Roberts, looks completely shocked by this turn of events.
Mrs. Roberts eventually raised her big red eyes to meet mine and nodded gratefully.
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate your generosity.
I smiled and motioned to Jake. “Many thanks for it. Jake, it’s probably time for you to start apologizing. Get to work right now.”
Jake reluctantly began wiping the floor, working rigidly and unenthusiastically. I could sense his frustration as he worked, but I wasn’t finished yet.
I turned to face Mrs. Roberts. “Why don’t you sit down and place an order? That’s how much of Jake’s allowance I’ll take.
“What?” Jake paused to shoot me a cold stare. “That’s not fair!”
I looked at you warily and remarked, “I think you’ve already said too much for one day, son.”
I moved vehemently for Mrs. Roberts to occupy the empty seat across from me. She hesitated, then timidly smiled and sat down.
I just ordered a coffee, but Mrs. Roberts ordered a basic lunch. As she ate, Jake continued to tidy. Occasionally, he glanced in her direction. Even though I could tell he was uncomfortable, I knew that this was a crucial step in his education.
For the next week, Jake worked at the restaurant after school every day. He mopped floors, cleaned tables, and took out the trash.
At first, he complained about the physically demanding tasks and tiresome chores all during supper. But I could tell right away that he had a different mentality.
One evening Jake sprang up from his chair to clear the table as we were wrapping up our dinner. His mother looked at him as if in shock.
She continued, “Jake, you’re never this eager to help with chores.” “Working at the restaurant is clearly doing you good.”
Jake halted. He looked at his mother, then back at me after clearing his throat.
“I guess so,” he said quietly. “I still hate the work, but it’s satisfying to see everything looking clean when I’m done.”
“So, you’ve started taking pride in your work,” I replied. It’s excellent. But could you perhaps elaborate on if you think the other staff members and clients appreciate what you do?
“The workers undoubtedly do. Indeed, I received a rough time from them after they found out about my behavior against Mrs. Roberts.” Jake shook his head. As for the clientele, I doubt that many of them actually give much thought to who has to clean up the mess they make.”
“They give me the impression that I’m invisible,” stated Jake. “It really sucks.”
I couldn’t help but smile. It appears that I made the right decision in terms of correcting my son’s despicable behavior. Just as I was celebrating my boy’s achievement, though, he made an unexpected comment that burst my bubble.
“I still don’t think Mrs. Roberts should be doing that job, Dad.” He shot me a cold look in reply. “It’s hard work, and she deserves a chance to rest.”
I sighed, “I agree.” “But I guess she has to work, Jake, to make ends meet.”
Jake shook his head. “It’s not right.”
I shrugged, thinking I had nothing clever to say to Jake, and commented on how unfair life is.
I never really thought about it until Jake’s last day working at the restaurant. Then he did something that amazed me much.
Jake turned in his uniform to the manager, and I saw him turn to confront Mrs. Roberts. When Jake approached her, she was waiting unsurely beside the counter and seemed uncomfortable.
“I’m very sorry for the way I treated you, Mrs. Roberts,” answered Jake. “And I’m sorry for the difficult duty you have to complete. So, I’m hoping that what I have for you would ease your burdens.”
I was stunned to watch Jake hand Mrs. Roberts a wad of cash.
“I spoke to my friends at school and we raised a little money for you,” said Jake. “It’s not much, but I hope it helps.”
Mrs. Roberts began to cry. She thanked Jake profusely. That’s one of the most moving things I’ve ever seen. I was so happy then, for Jake, I’ve never been happier.