My dad said, “Hard work never hurt anybody.” He said that frequently. Very frequently. He truly believed it. And He lived it. Dad worked very hard all of his life. He preached this and instilled this philosophy to my brothers and me. He was assisted in this by mom, who had grown up the oldest daughter of thirteen surviving offspring of her parents.
So we pretty much fell in line and worked pretty hard ourselves. We have various rewards to show for it and some losses as well. Hard work doesn’t guarantee wealth. In my own case it guaranteed…..enough.
I worked at various jobs from grade-school youth age well into my sixth decade. I am still working on projects and activities I love. I had jobs I liked, jobs where the leadership was precious and taught me things I needed to know. I’ve had jobs where just the opposite was true and I saw what seemed to be the wrong actions and values being rewarded with promotion and promise.
I never had the benefit of a union to right any wrongs I may have experienced. I had to learn to pick and choose my battles. I had to learn to believe in myself, and I needed to learn that. The job place was a great teacher. Sometimes I needed to know how to let go…..and move on. And I did.
Work is not the only form of labor, however. Much of the important work in my life has taken place on the personal stage of life. I came to realize that all of life is a gift and giving where ever I could to family, friend, stranger, and just someone in need of “something” I could be or give to them was a very important labor.
One that is always rewarded. One that promotes the good of all. That is the kind of labor I think about today. It is a labor of love.