Couldn't Keep

 

            They stood together at the edge of the wooded property with a small, flowing stream, with dreams of ownership, dreams of building a large, beautiful home that would one day be filled with children, who would eventually become adults, marry, and build homes of their own on this vast piece of property, essentially creating a massive homestead that would be a place of safety for extended family.

               Many prior years of hard work, saving as much money as possible, and carefully crafting plans to bring about their dreams and desires finally became a reality. Commitment, faithfulness, diligence, and focus on building their new life one step at a time, created a time frame that allowed them to steadily make progress, instill a good work ethic and see the fruit of their work become their new reality.

               The original home started out small to grow in steps, adding space as space was needed, with each coming child more rooms were added, gardens were planted, an orchard was begun, firewood was cut, and a hobby farm of sorts was begun, creating a place to grow, to learn, to improve, and to become better people. Between working a full-time job, caring for the farm, raising children, and increasing the size of the home as more room was needed, they eventually stood together as a family to look out across the vast and seemingly limitless forest that surrounded them.

               Like a dream and vision that had no end, his plans, his hopes, and his aspirations also had no limit. Arriving home each day after a full day of work, he was always pleased to see that the house was clean, organized, and peaceful. As he drove up the two-mile gravel driveway to pull up in front of the house, he could see his two oldest sons splitting and stacking firewood. His oldest daughter was hidden somewhere among the bee hives on the southern part of the property, gathering the honeycomb to extract the honey from the wax that was to be used for making candles, two other sources of income for the home.

               The years slowly ticked by, to bring the addition of more children, and with them the need for more space, more food, and the glory of safe space in the forests around them. Three or four days a week, he would return home to find that the older children were keeping the house running, keeping it clean and orderly, as their mother was often gone off doing who knows what. “This just doesn’t seem right,” he would say to himself as he walked into the home.

               Hugging each child as he entered the home, he prepared dinner, thanked them all for their hard work and diligence in maintaining a comfortable and peaceful home. As darkness began to settle, he called everyone in from all corners of the home, the forest, and the furthest reaches of what they called their homestead to join him at the table for an almost comprehensive family dinner.

               The evening meal was finished and the oldest three children stepped up to put away the leftover food, clean the kitchen, wash the dishes, and shuffle off the smaller children to simple and helpful duties around the house. He hugged each child again as the meal was complete, to then slip away to the cool breeze and darkness of the open front porch, relishing the peace and silence.

               He repeatedly checked his watch as the evening grew darker and colder until ten o’clock rolled around, prompting him to take a shower and slip into an empty bed. He knew what the next several hours would bring or not bring, finally falling asleep he woke, once again to an empty bed to find something to eat for breakfast while all the children remained asleep. “Lunch, I need to put together something for lunch,” he muttered to himself. “This is crazy, our evenings as a family should not be this way.”

               He woke the oldest three, communicated his love for them, urged them to rise from bed, step up and help around the house, to ensure that the smaller children would be taken care of, would eat well, and would continue to learn to be helpful in so many daily chores. “If your mother does not show up soon, I’ll need you all to work through the school work with the little ones,” he said. “I’ll call during my lunch break and make sure that you all are doing well.”

               Muttering under his breath as he drove to work, hating the idea of leaving the children unattended. “They are too little to left with this much responsibility,” he said to himself. “Maybe I’ll call a friend, a neighbor or another family member to check on them at some point today.”

               The first half of his day crept by and as he ate his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, he dialed the home phone number to receive no response. “Wow, that’s not good,” he said. “I guess I should try again in about an hour. This is truly disturbing.” His lunch break ended, he kept one eye on the clock and when another hour had passed, he once again placed another phone call to again receive no response.

               Thirty minutes before the end of the day, his cellphone rang, with a call from his sister-in-law, with alarming news that no one was at his home when she drove there to check on the children. “Okay, thanks for the call,” he said. “I’m going to leave early and see if I can figure out what is going on out there. I’ll call you if I figure anything out.”

               He called a brief meeting with his boss, explained the situation and the need to leave early that day. “I’ll come in early tomorrow to make up for today, or I’ll stay late tomorrow to make up for today, whichever you prefer,” he said. Rolling his neck to try to dissipate the tension that had been building since lunch, he took several deep breaths and drove home to find that the entire family was absent, the house was dark with a good deal of their personal belongings missing as well.

               “Brr, it is so cold in here,” he grumbled. “I need to start a fire and burn off this chill. Let’s see if I can find a note, an explanation or something to make sense of this aching emptiness.” He gathered some firewood, crumpled some newspaper, split some kindling, and soon had a roaring fire in the fireplace, slowly increasing the temperature level in the home. “Okay, look through each room and each flat surface in hope of finding a note that gives me something to work with to understand what is happening.”

               Every room was searched; every flat surface was reviewed to produce nothing of any sort of explanation for his solitude. He found himself looking at his watch every ten minutes until darkness slowly swallowed his empty home, leaving him feeling empty and sad and hungry all at the same time. “Guess I should find something to eat,” he said. “Looks like I’ll be spending the evening alone. Man, this is frustrating and confusing, what to do, what to do?”

               He filled his belly with whatever he could find in the refrigerator to then take a shower, and slip into bed early, knowing that another full day of work lay ahead of him. He crawled out of bed earlier than normal, walked from room to room, to once again find that he was still alone, the house had gone cold as the fire had burned itself out while he slept. “Oof, off to work I guess,” he grumbled. “I need some breakfast first and I’ll see what the day brings.”

               Lunch time came around; he placed a call to the home phone to once again receive no answer. He took a thirty-minute lunch to make up for his early departure the day before to then leave at his normal time, followed by a thirty-minute drive home and a slow tortuous drive up the gravel driveway. Darkness had not yet begun to fall and he approached the charred remains of their once beautiful home, sick at the thought that all his hard work, his years of thoughts, saving, and planning was now gone, leaving only an aching emptiness inside of him.

               “Nothing is here, everything is gone, now what do I do,” he wondered. Now with nothing but clothes on his back, his shoes, his car, and his cellphone, he drove into the nearest town to find a cheap motel room. “I need to run by the grocery store, pick up a few things, and settle into the motel which will provide a place to sleep, a shower, and hopefully a decent continental breakfast following my rising from sleep the next morning.”

               Jarred from his restless sleep, he woke up confused, wishing that his memories from the previous day were all part of a horrible dream. As he woke up in a bed and room he did not recognize, he knew that his reality had just radically changed into a wretched new existence, a new world that left him alone, confused, and with very little to call his own.

“Phew, time to think about a new approach to life, a new way to interact, and how to move forward,” he grumbled. “I need to figure out how to find answers for all that has happened in the last few days.”

The Ultimate Change

 

            Julio was born in the Mission District, a neighborhood of the rapidly declining city of San Francisco, the only son of a family that had been part of the United States for three generations. With three older sisters and one younger sister, he learned to be hard, aggressive, and protective of those he loved. Unusually tall for a Hispanic boy, he learned to use his size, his passion, and his strength to instill fear in those in the community around him, eventually taking on the reputation of one whom no one dared anger.

               By his thirteenth birthday, he had grown taller and larger than everyone in his extended family. On his way home from school, mere months before beginning his years of high school, he came across two classmates harassing his younger sister with vulgar comments and suggestive threats against her person. Without giving away his presence, he motioned for his sister to ignore his approach, to then knock the heads of the two boys together and watch them drop to the street.

               He stepped on the hands of both boys to release a cracking sound and a groan from each, to then put his arm around his sister and walk her home with promises that he would never allow anyone to harm her, speak to her in that way, or get away with that kind of verbal abuse. As they mounted the steps to their apartment, little Maria wrapped him in a strong embrace with tears of thanksgiving.

“Thank you, brother,” she said. “I am always amazed at how some people still do things like that when they know that you’ll deal with them in a way that they won’t find pleasant.”

               He gave her a gentle hug in return, opened the door for her, and sat down on the steps to communicate the message that he would have no one treating his sister in that way. From his seated position, he could see the two boys pull themselves to their feet and run in the opposite direction, noticing a quick glance back from them both. With the look back, he stood up, descended the steps and made an aggressive move toward them as they ran away.

               From that day forward, Julio always walked little Maria to her school before heading toward his own building. He was part way through his next school day to see the two boys from the day before with their hands in bandages, which stirred in him a small laugh as he watched them struggle with working through their homework and taking notes.

               The school year finished and Julio began his four-year journey through high school, already having the name and attitude that everyone respected and didn’t care confront, knowing that violence would certainly follow any disrespect to him, to his friends, or to his family. Upon reaching graduation, he had no intention of continuing an education into university and instead took a job as a delivery person. This path became his new reality, providing a steady income to take care of his needs and the needs of his family.

               On more than one occasion, he was confronted by small groups of young men who intended to abscond with his packages and impose some pain upon him at the same time. Julio knew of what he was capable, protected the responsibility with which he was entrusted and broke more than a few bones on those who dared confront him. After six years in this role, his reputation and show of sheer force created a reputation that no one else dared challenge.

               This role of delivery person gave him the opportunity to see his own neighborhood, other neighborhoods, and how people in other cultures lived and succeeded. The criminal activity of those around him tore at his heart, moving him to make the decision to begin a new role and create a new reputation in and around his community. The day after his last delivery, he called together his four closest friends to brainstorm on an idea that had been building within his heart and mind.

               “Hey guys, thanks for getting together,” he said. “As I’ve been doing this delivery work for so long, I’ve seen a lot of crime, and how other people live. I’ve been thinking that the five of us could start a security business where we provide protection for a wealthy clientele.”

               “Security, really,” one of his friends said. “I have a feeling that we would be hard pressed to convince pretty much anyone to hire young Hispanic guys for protection.”

               “I’ve been doing some research,” Julio said. “The pay for roles like this is exceptionally high and I know we could do a great job with our knowledge of these neighborhoods, and how to protect ourselves and others. This will give us the opportunity to disprove the ugly picture that so many have of young Hispanic men. I’ll set everything up, let’s give this a try. I’ll keep you updated as all the details fall into place.”

               Two weeks passed and Julio began to make connections, began the paperwork for a business license, to then receive confirmation from his four friends that they would be interested in joining him in his endeavor. “Hey guys, I made some business cards for us that we can begin delivering to different people, different businesses, and different neighborhoods.”

               Within one week of passing out business cards and connecting with businesses around the city, his phone began to blow up from client’s seeking their services. Julio and his friends began their work of protection for over one dozen clients, which allowed them enough income to create an office with a warm, clean, and friendly environment to receive new customers.

               When Julio and his friends reached their thirtieth birthdays, they were in awe of how large their client base had become. “Guys, we really should consider hiring more people to help us with the amount of work we have right now,” he said. “I really hate the idea of turning down work because the five of us cannot handle it all. If you have any ideas, talk to them and if they’re interested, we can bring them in for an interview and hopefully continue to grow our client base.”

               ‘Julio and Friends’ became the protection service that most small companies and wealthy individuals in and around the Bay area went to for flawless and genuine protection. Julio and his four friends watched their business continue to grow, taking on more and more agents. When Julio reached the age of fifty, he made the decision to bring on more agents and spend the majority of his time making connections, handling paperwork, and helping change the neighborhood for the good of those he knew and loved.

               As he drew closer to retirement age, he chose one of his agents to take over the role that he currently filled, while accepting a reduced income from the business to continue supporting himself and his family. ‘Julio and Friends’ continued to blossom, create safety, protection, a safe neighborhood, and also destroy the unfortunate stereotype against young Hispanic men. He and his four original friends sat in the park playing chess across from their office which had recently expanded, as they shared stories about how radically everything had changed since they began this business of protection.

               He would stop into the office once a month to interact with those he had placed in charge since his absence. After each visit, he would leave the office smiling, knowing that he and his friends had done a good thing, were helping people, and were making the world a better place. Though drawing close to seventy years old, he was still stronger and more agile that most on the streets of his neighborhood.

               After a pleasant afternoon with his four friends, he invited them to join him on a short walk throughout the neighborhoods that surrounded the Mission District. As they slowly walked from block to block, they counted seventeen different situations that involved agents from ‘Julio and Friends’.

               “Guys, we have done a good thing,” he said. “Who would have thought that a crazy idea I had so many years ago would turn into a flourishing business that is destroying the bad image that so many have of young Hispanic men. I want to remind you of how proud we should all be with the work we have done.”

               “I couldn’t agree more,” one of his friends said. “Honestly, I’m getting tired. Let’s go back to my place, watch a movie and enjoy some pizza delivery. We aren’t too far away from there right now. This has been a great day. Yes, Julio, you are right. Since we started this protection business, we are seeing many of our young men with jobs to support themselves and their families. This was a great idea that you pulled together and has created hope for our community.”

Forgetting History

 

The week after his eighteenth birthday, Matthew walked to the Marine’s registration office to sign over his life in the service of his country. He had graduated from high school at the top of his class with dreams and aspirations of doing good for others and of making the world a better and safer place. After a thirty-minute conversation with the recruitment officer, twice he carefully read through the documents laid before him and with no further questions, signed his name to learn that he had twenty days before he would be on a bus to training camp in the Midwest.

The thirty-minute walk back home gave him time to craft his thoughts, his arguments, and his conversation with his parents. “It would probably be wise to wait at least half of the time before I leave to lay this out on my parents,” he thought. His mind was sharper and more educated than anyone he knew, his strength, his stamina, and his ability to overcome any physical challenge could not be any better.

He rounded the corner to his neighborhood, ascended his front steps, and entered his home to find his mother waiting for him at the kitchen counter. “Hi Matthew,” she said, “I would ask where you’ve been but based on your slightly sweaty state of being, I have to assume you were out exercising.”

“Hi Mom, yes, you’re right,” he answered. “I needed to get out and burn off some energy. There is nothing better than that dopamine hit when one is bored and not wanting to distract oneself with social media or television. Yes, it was a great workout. I have to say I am terribly hungry. Should I have a snack now or will we be having dinner soon?”

Ten days passed and Matthew worked very hard to keep his secret plans quiet. The weekend came around and he joined his parents in the living room to watch a movie but before the movie started, he shared his plans of joining the Marines, and that he would be on a bus to the East Coast in ten days hence. The day of his departure arrived far faster than he could have imagined, his mother was in tears, and his father was smiling with pride at his son’s decision to be one who would make a difference in the world. The details for his time and location of departure had arrived in the mail three days before.

Matthew now stood at the train station with his ticket in hand, his suitcase packed with clothes and snacks, with dreams growing larger and larger in his mind. In a sea of other young men close to his age, they all squeezed onto the train, engaged in small talk and wondered about the length of their training and possible locations for them after training was complete. The ten-hour train ride finally came to an end, they gathered their luggage, transferred it to storage beneath a bus, found their seats therein and rode for two hours to training camp.

The thirteen weeks of training passed and Matthew found himself on an airplane to Camp Hansen in Okinawa, Japan. He was well over six feet tall, white, and built like a piece of steel, finding himself thrilled at being of service to his country, of helping make the world a better place, and as the plane descended to land, he learned that he would become part of the MP’s in and around the city of Okinawa. The plane landed to be greeted by a bus to take he and his fellow soldiers to the base.

They arrived at the base, they were greeted by those in charge, and were scattered across several barracks, were given assignments, and learned that regardless of who was committing whatever crime, it was their responsibility to diffuse the situation with grace and dignity. Foundationally, their job was to put a stop to any crime or incursion taking place, whether it was being committed by a civilian or another soldier.

Matthew was connected to Alexander, a fellow soldier of the same age and same family situation. They were assigned to a twelve-block portion of town that consisted mostly of storefronts and a few high-rise apartment buildings. The two young men walked shoulder to shoulder in a systematic pattern to cover their assigned portion of the city. Matthew drove his elbow into Alexander’s ribs which was followed by a verbal command to watch a certain young man with a backpack entering a small store.

“Hey, check out that kid,” Matthew said. “He had a backpack when he walked into the store and now he no longer does. We need to follow up on that, come on, stay with me.” The two men hurried into the store, saw the abandoned backpack, quickly retrieved it, ran out of the store to deposit it in the middle of the street. The two young men moved in opposite directions, blocking off traffic with the concern that the backpack may contain explosives. Shouting and motioning for everyone to stay back and clear out the area, the backpack exploded, releasing a volley of shrapnel and nails, essentially causing no damage to anyone or anything.

“Alexander, call it in,” Matthew said. “We just saved a number of lives and avoided serious damage to someone’s store.”

“Alright, I’m on it,” Alexander answered. Within twenty minutes a team of Marine’s arrived and began searching through security footage to identify the young man with the backpack.

“Alright, Alexander, it looks like we’ve done our job and the research team will take care of the rest,” Matthew said. “Let’s keep moving in and around our assigned space.”

The two young men continued their pattern around the city, until Alexander spotted three other Marine’s abduct a young girl from a street corner to drag her into an alley. “Matthew, check that out,” he said. “That does not look good. We need to get over there, take some photos and protect that little girl. Three Marine’s abducting a girl will certainly not lead to a good conclusion.”

Feeling like a finely tuned weapon, Matthew ran ahead into the alley, used his years of physical training, boxing skills, and grappling techniques to disable the three Marine’s. “Alexander, call this in,” he said. “We will need to keep these three here and the girl as well. It is situations like this that make the US military look bad. I’m sure another research team will be here sooner than later.”

Matthew and Alexander became close friends until their three years of service in Okinawa ended to potentially send them both home. “Wow, Alexander,” Matthew said. “Think back to all the good that we have done to protect others, to prevent damage, and to improve the look of the US military in this city. I’m done with my three years of service and cannot wait to see my family, my friends, and my hometown again.”

Matthew signed his final papers which allowed him to be honorably discharged from the Marines and to also receive awards of commendation for his excellent work. The two young men exchanged hugs and Alexander watched Matthew enter the plane to return home while he made the decision to complete an additional three years of service.

Matthew landed at LAX and was greeted by his parents and three friends from high school. Receiving multiple hugs from a teary-eyed mother, he was thrilled at the prospect of eating home cooked meals rather than the bland military food he had been forced to consume the past three years. Within six months of arriving at home, Matthew and two of his friends from high school began their own security service, providing personalized protection for the wealthy and the important.

The transition from military life to being a private body guard was a smooth change, allowing him to continue using his skills in the service of others. As he reached his thirtieth year, he eventually proposed to his girlfriend, in a relationship that had been brewing for the last three years. Six months later, he and she became one after a beautiful ceremony at the local church.

After a two-week honeymoon, Matthew returned to work to share his new idea with his business partners. “Hey guys, I have been thinking about something,” he said. “Our business is doing exceptional with so many wealthy and important people paying us very well for our services. I was thinking that we should start spending time on the streets of our hometown, providing an unpaid neighborhood watch kind of situation. We have the skills and the passion to serve and protect. It would only have to be a few hours on weekends when we’re not busy with doing private work for our paying clients.”

His two partners agreed with him and the new idea was put into action, which brought about an incredible decline in violence, theft, and abuse of those who were vulnerable. All three men eventually grew old, hired other young men to continue their work, to eventually retire, and receive commendation from the city mayor, the governor of the state, the state patrol, the sheriff’s department, and the city police department.

Matthew continued to watch the trajectory of the company that he and his friends had started, to sadly see that it was shut down after twenty years of service without them. Matthew, his two friends and their wives would meet each week to lament the slow decline of the quality of life, the increasing crime and the sad news of their company being shut down.

“This is so sad to me, guys,” Matthew said. “I put in three years of military service, and decades of work in our city to fight against crime and now it seems like all that work has come to nothing. If you go onto social media, watch the news, and look at the people that are considered important, you won’t see any of them doing anything of actual value.”

“Yep, that is the sad truth,” one of his friends said. “Most people aren’t really concerned about truth, justice, or helping others, it seems that everyone simply wants to be distracted. Fortunately, we won’t be around forever to see the continued decline into this kind of nonsense. Should we start up the business once again, by hiring new people to continue the work that accomplished so much?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Matthew said. “We all will need to ask around and see if we can put something together. It would be a crime to simply let it all go. After hiring new men to continue the work, we also need to establish a board of trustees so that the work will always continue. We cannot leave that decision up to the new hires.”

Cutting It Off

 

            Barclay grew up knowing only wealth, comfort, and beauty. The only child of the wealthiest family in the United Kingdom, he watched his father spend his free time in his personal library, organizing ideas, making business decisions, and developing business plans to further increase the wealth and position of authority of his family. His father was sixty-two years old when Barclay was born to eventually repose on Barclay’s twentieth birthday, leaving him a lengthy document explaining every detail of the responsibilities that lay before him.

               While only two years through university, he argued with himself about the near impossible possibility of succeeding in his studies and handling all the financial details for his family. After a lengthy discussion with the legal department at the family company, he decided to complete his studies at the university and offer guidance and wisdom whenever the board needed his input.

               Thirty days after his graduation, Barclay took over the position of CEO of the company, putting to use his remarkable skills at organizing data, and restructuring the overly complex hierarchy of offices, departments, and factories that all bore the surname of the Barclay line. After eighteen years of leadership, guidance, and struggling against the board that his father had put in place, he eventually decided to consider selling the family home, in which he and his mother lived. Shortly after her death, he stood at the helm of a vast empire that had been the foundation of his multi-generation family for at least seven generations.

               He walked out of the office that formerly belonged to his father, which was now his place of rumination and planning, to stand in perfect silence at the foot of the stairs just beyond the main entrance. “Wow, so much polished wood, so much tile, and so much beauty,” he marveled to himself. “I know this home exceeds twelve thousand square feet, which is a ridiculous number for one man to possess and occupy alone.”

               As he knelt in the center of the glorious, beautiful, and shockingly elaborate entry way, he ceased all thought, all justification, and all excuses for retaining such a home simply for himself. “That gives me an idea,” he said to himself. “Back to the office to do some research and definitely change my approach to life.” Barclay sat down at his desk, flipped open his laptop and opened the file that contained the names and addresses of all his employee that served in his beautiful home. “Okay, find a map, time to learn the reality of life for people who are not immersed in wealth.”

               He rose from his desk, projected a map of the city of London on a wall designed for such a purpose. He removed the list of addresses from his printer that showed the homes of each of his employees. He created a mental map and plan to drive through each of these neighborhoods to obtain a better grasp on reality, to see a world of suffering, of poverty, and of lack that he had never previously experienced.

               He returned to his desk, placed a phone call to his driver to pick him up at the main entrance and plan for a lengthy drive across most of London. With a highlighted list that was preceded by a sequence of numbers, he climbed into the back seat of the Bentley. “Reginald, I have created a list of addresses for you to follow as we spend the next several hours driving around London,” he said. “I must admit that this is a rather unusual request, as we will be visiting dark and possibly dangerous corners of London. I am going to suggest that we bring some of the larger and stronger laborers with us as we travel.”

               “Yes, sir, very good sir,” Reginald answered.

               “Give me a few minutes to place a phone call to have the others join us,” Barclay said. Reginald skimmed through the list that his boss had given him, releasing a long breath and wrestling with thoughts of concern about safety and the purpose of such an adventure. Within twenty minutes, the family Land Rover pulled up behind them, prompting Barclay to emerge from the car with specific instructions to the four large men waiting behind them.

               Within a few minutes, he returned to the Bentley and gave instructions to proceed to the first address. The Land Rover remained in close proximity of the car as they sliced through the semi-darkness of the soon to arrive evening. After a thirty-minute drive, they arrived at the first location, at which Barclay emerged from his car to explore the neighborhood, view the homeless people, and engage in dialog with those who lingered on street corners, and the multiple of prostitutes who seemed truly interested in offering their services to such a handsome and wealthy young man.

               This became his pattern for the remaining six homes on the list he had created. He felt safe and comfortable as he and the four large men from the Land Rover walked with him through these dark, slightly dangerous, and questionable neighborhoods. He and they returned to their vehicles, he thanked them for their presence as they explored corners of the city that he had previously never experienced. “Thank you for your time, gentlemen,” he said. “We will now return home and you can get back to whatever it was that you were doing when I called for your assistance.”

               The Bentley pulled through wrought iron fence and traveled up the driveway to deposit him at the front door of his home which sat empty save the many servants that filled the corners of the overly large house. He thanked Reginald for his time and efforts of driving him through the various neighborhoods, he returned to his office, loaded the photos from his phone into his laptop, to project them on the wall to the left of his desk. “Wow, this is crazy,” he muttered to himself. “I had no idea that our people live in that kind of squalor and deprivation. I really need to do something different.”

               In a spur of the moment decision, he decided to increase the pay of each of his household employees by twenty five percent. He composed an email communicating this decision to each of his household employees, pressed the send button, wandered his way across his home to the kitchen to find a snack for himself, greeting each servant as he passed through multiple hallways.

               Sitting in the kitchen and chatting with the head cook, he finished his small meal, ascended to the second floor, took a shower, and retired for the evening with dreams and visions of his many travels that evening. Barclay awoke to the sound of his alarm, dragging him from sleep at seven a.m.

               “Oof, time for a phone call to the realtor,” he said to himself. “But breakfast is first. You know, I think I’ll invite all the servants to join me for this meal. No one likes to eat alone.” He and the dozen servants all sat together in the formal dining room to enjoy a glorious, copious, and tasty meal just prepared by his three cooks. Everyone completed their meal, and he rose from his seat to ask the question if everyone had received their email sent the night before.

               All of them nodded in agreement, offering words of thankfulness, and appreciation for his generosity. “In an act of kindness toward our kitchen staff, will everyone please bring their dishes into the kitchen before departing to return to their responsibilities, thank you so much everyone for your hard work.”

               The room slowly emptied, leaving Barclay sitting alone, to then bring his own dishes into the kitchen and return to his office to place the phone call to his realtor. Within the hour, Barclay and the realtor sat together to craft multiple documents to place his home for sale on the London real estate market. He deliberately priced the home lower than the realtor suggested, creating a situation that would result in a speedy sale. After accepting a full price offer after a third showing, the paperwork was signed, and he chose another home, much smaller and at the same time retaining his employees to tend and keep the new home in its original beautiful state.

               Within six weeks, the former Barclay home was empty and its contents were relocated to smaller and equally beautiful home that was a much more reasonable fit for his needs. In addition to his new home, he purchased an apartment complex relatively near his new home, which provided a cleaner, safer, and more convenient setting for his household employees. Because the new home was considerably smaller, he sold approximately half of his furniture and donated the funds to several responsible and philanthropic organizations in an effort to create a cleaner, safer London for as many people as possible.

               With profits from the number of factories and businesses owned by his family line, Barclay began new companies in order to hire those who struggled to find employment. Three years after accomplishing his efforts of philanthropy, he and Reginald repeated their original drive to view much cleaner and safer communities.

               “We did it, Reginald,” he said as they returned home. “I hope you feel as good as I do, knowing that we have put in a great effort to make the communities surrounding us better for those who do not enjoy the comfort we enjoy. Please do me a favor.”
               “Yes, sir of course,” he answered. “What would you like me to do?”

               “When we arrive at home, I would like you to gather all of the servants in the formal dining room so they can share their knowledge and experience of how our hard work at positively impacting our community has helped them or others they know.”

               “Very good, I most certainly will,” Reginald answered. “I think we will need at least an hour before we can all gather, giving everyone time to gather their thoughts about this. I will have everyone in the formal dining room in one hour.”

               Barclay and his household employees gathered in the formal dining room, at which time he could feel the tension in the room. “Thank you everyone for joining me this afternoon. As some of you may know, I and the family companies have been putting in a great deal of effort and money at improving our communities. I called you all here to receive your feedback on how this money and effort has positively impacted you or your loved ones.”

               When he sat down, he could feel the tension immediately dissipate. A middle-aged woman stood and spoke, communicating her deep appreciation for the work done by the Barclay family line.

               “I wanted to share my observations about the state of our communities, about how cleaner and safer everything has become,” she said. “It is a beautiful thing to see so few people lingering about the streets and more people earning an income to provide for their families.”

               A young woman sitting next to her rose to her feet when the older woman sat down. “I too agree with Abigail’s observations,” she said. “I believe I can speak for everyone here that we are all seeing the same thing and experiencing the improvement that has taken place over the last several weeks. We are all in agreement in saying thank you for your concern for the common people and your generous pay to all of us. Thank you, sir.”

               “Yes, of course,” Barclay answered. “I appreciate your time, your effort and your willingness to share your thoughts. You are all excused. I and the family companies will continue this work for many years to come. Have an enjoyable rest of your day.”