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.”