The Priceless Gift

I started my first job during the time that there was “car-pooling” to work. It meant that if there were four people in a car, there wasn’t a need to pay the toll to get into the CBD area (Central Business District). The lady who gave me a lift to work everyday lived in my neighbourhood and she worked at the Treasury Building, which looked like a stack of coins. I only realised that she was an important lady when I recognised her name on a form which I had to fill out at work. I knew that the Treasury building was an important place, which one associates with money and wealth.

One day another lady who joined the car-pool told us that her children gave her some plastic flowers for Mother’s day. They told her that the plastic flowers were the best, because they would last forever. It sounded like they were not the most beautiful flowers, but they were the most precious gift to her. Then I thought, yes, there are many things in life which are priceless and can never be measured in monetary terms. There are also many services done in society which cannot be measured in monetary terms for their contribution to the economy. A homemaker’s contribution in the home is also a contribution to society, but is probably never recorded in terms of statistics. I once heard an economist talk about the quality of life being made up of little things in the home.

When people go out of their way to render a service or give a helping hand, but don’t accept payment for their deeds, these services are not recorded in monetary terms, but they are priceless. They make the world a kinder place. I remember a worker running after me as I was making my way to the bus-stop with my groceries. He was shouting to me to stop, I was a bit surprised. He caught up with me and told me that I had dropped a packet of vegetables. He handed it to me and went on his way. I realised that essential workers like him made the world a more beautiful place. Without their work, the pavements and parks were overgrown during Circuit Breaker.

My favourite poem starts with : “Count your garden by the flowers, never by the leaves that fall. Count your days by golden hours, don’t remember clouds at all.”

Time to do some gardening…

By Chayo, Homskil Editor 1, 24 January 2021

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