It all started when someone randomly commenting “that person must’ve wished he had studied harder”, as we walked past a cleaner who was sweeping the floor. A few days later, a cleaner was waiting in front of a crowd waiting for them to disperse, so that he could sweep the floor. A few days later, I was going to throw out the rubbish, the cleaner was at the bin clearing the stuff said “thank you” when I placed it in his big clearing bin. A few days later, someone complained about the mugs not being cleaned properly in the pantry as she picked up one to use. (If you hate it, then, wash that mug by yourself >_>)
I respect them, though. Not many would take up this job. Much less even be proud of what they are doing (although, the topic of a low salary is another matter). Without them, a lot of public places would’ve been filthy.
My late grandfather used to be a cleaner at the airport when I was very young, but, retired when I was much older. Thus, pretty much his last job. He would usually work the midnight shift and would tell me and my siblings scary stories of what happened in the quiet toilets that people wouldn’t visit at around that time. (I believe in the supernatural because I’ve been disturbed many times throughout my lifetime.) Sometimes, he would bring us around the airport and told us the places he would work at. I’ve always look up to him. He worked honestly. A times, he would cycle me to school and my mother wouldn’t like it, because, he loved to cycle on the main road where the buses and cars would buzz by without caring about the pedestrians. Once, he cycled all way back and to school because I’ve forgotten to bring my art file to school. I’ve never heard him complain about anything.
A quiet strong man who spoke little. He knew that I loved soft toys, so, he would pick up thrown away teddies by the rubbish bin, washed them well, sew it and gave them to me. My grandma would ask on why he’d bring back so many things, but, left it be after a while. Sometimes when they got dirty, he’d say that it’s time to wash them all up and we’d throw them all in the washing machine and he would help peg them up to dry. A handyman who would pick up things that people threw away and made them into really useful things like handles on doors using pieces of metal and wood and faulty fans to work again. I would awe and wonder how he knew how to do so much. Who would’ve known, that, it’d rubbed on me. I love fixing stuff. More to technology, though.
He may have a job that some people despise or not even look at as a human being. Cleaning toilets and sweeping around. People not being thankful for and instead complain even further about something not being done perfectly. But from what I see, it’s an honest job and he does it with all that he can give. His family might’ve been very poor most of his life, but, they got through it. The most important thing is that the family ties remain and we’re happy, even with the troves of problems life always bring upon to everyone.
One might think that being “up there” or rich is important. But, even if you get to travel to places and own many things, you can still feel empty, fake, lost or sad deep within. Well… unless, you’re one of those oblivious people who owns not an once of humanity within. =X Don’t be too busy chasing after materialistic goals all the time that eventually, lose track of time and relationships.
Don’t look down upon others, because everyone does have a purpose (unless… they’re pure evil… but, still has an agenda). You’ll never know that the cleaner whom you were nice to helped you in return years later, without you knowing. Kindness trickles down. Respect begets respect.