The Value of Hard Work

Saturday afternoon—two kids at my door, holding rakes bigger than they are. “Sir,

can we rake your whole yard for ten dollars? Not each. Total.” My yard’s

a mess, and it’ll take hours. I remember being young, hustling,

just like them. “Alright. Deal,” I say. They WORKED. Hard.

No shortcuts, no complaints. Two and a half hours later, they’re back,

tired but smiling. I walk out with $80. The taller one’s eyes go wide.

“Sir, we said ten—” I stop him. “I know. But I know what

your work is worth. You earned this.” Awestruck, they thank me, heads filled with