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WITandWISDOM(tm) - August 22, 2002
ISSN 1538-8794

~~~~~~~ THOUGHTS:

A man learns to skate by staggering about, making a fool of himself. Indeed, he progresses in all things by resolutely making a fool of himself. - George Bernard Shaw


"First-Day Employee"

My father had a small business, employing approximately fifteen people at any given time. We pasteurized and homogenized milk from farmers each morning, and put it into bottles for home use and for restaurants. We also put the milk into small containers for the school kids everyday. We also made a wonderful little thing called homemade ice cream.

We sold all of these milk products, and many more, in the front of a dairy building, which had been fashioned into a small store with a large soda fountain. During the summer months, there were rows and rows of eager tourists lined up at the ice cream counter, waiting for their daily indulgence of my father's most exquisite recipes of some twenty-seven flavors of homemade wonder.

Being such an extremely busy little store meant that the employees had to work fast and furious for hours at a time, with little rest. The swarm of tourists never stopped and our "rush hour" lasted many hours on hot days.

I had worked for my father since I was young, as did all seven kids in our family. So I had seen many new employees come and go due to the fast and frenetic pace.

One day, in 1967, we had a new employee, Debbie, who wanted to work in the store for the summer. She had never done this type of work before, but planned to give it her all.

On her first day, Debbie made just about every mistake in the book. She added the sales wrong on the cash register, she charged the wrong prices for items, she gave the wrong bag of food to the wrong customer, and she dropped and broke a half gallon of milk.

The torture of watching her struggle was too much for me. I went into my father's office and said, "Please go out there and put her out of her misery." I expected him to walk right into the store and fire her on the spot.

Since my father's office was situated within view of the sales counter, he had no doubt seen what I was talking about. He sat, thoughtful, for a moment. Then he got up from his desk and walked over to Debbie, who was standing behind the counter.

"Debbie," he said, as he put his hand gently on her shoulder. "I have been watching you all day, and I saw how you treated Mrs. Forbush."

Debbie's face began to flush and tears began to well in her eyes as she struggled to remember Mrs. Forbush from the many women she had given the wrong change to or spilled milk on.

My father continued, "I've never seen Mrs. Forbush be so polite to any one of my employees before. You really knew how to handle her. I am sure that she is going to want you to wait on her every time she comes in. Keep up the good work."

In return for being a wise and compassionate employer, my father got a loyal, and hardworking employee for sixteen years...and a friend for life.

By Mary Jane West-Delgado
Used by Permission

From: Chicken Soup for the Soul by Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen

Source: Nascent Dew Drops, http://nascentdewdrops.com/

~~~~~~~ THIS & THAT:

Roses are red, violets are blue.
That's what they say, but it just isn't true!
Roses are red and apples are too,
But violets are violet...violets aren't blue!
An orange is orange, but Greenland's not green.
A pinky's not pink, so what does it mean?
To call something blue when it's not, we defile it.
But ah, what's the difference...it's hard to rhyme violet!

Source: Laugh & Lift, http://www.premiumhealth.com/laughlift/


I was traveling with my grandson, age four, and my daughter-in-law, who was driving. The trip took several hours and I thought that I would occupy my grandson's mind by playing the animal sound game.

"What does a cow say?", I asked.

"Mooooo", he responded.

"What does a dog say?", I asked.

"Arf arf", he responded.

"What does a cat say?", I asked.

"Meow" , he responded.

I went through a long list of animals to which he responded with the correct sound for each. Thinking that I would stump him, I asked, "What does a rabbit say?"

He thought for just a moment and then responded, "What's up doc?"

Source: Colorado Comments, http://coloradocomments.com/

~~~~~~~ TRIVIA:

In July 1941, my newly formed First Marine Division trained along the Atlantic Coast. Life aboard the Navy transports was tough, and morale on the "rust buckets" was rock-bottom.

One gray evening, as we stood in ranks, the Marine bugler was ordered to sound "colors." Tired and seasick, he put his battered instrument to his lips and played a series of barely recognizable notes.

"If you can't play any better than that," the officer in charge screamed, "then you'd better throw your bugle overboard!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" answered the bugler. And with Marine precision, he heaved his instrument into the Atlantic.

It cost him a night in the brig and the price of a new bugle, but single handedly that fine Marine restored the ship's morale.

Contributed to "Humor In Uniform" by Michael L. Santoro
Provided courtesy of Reader's Digest http://www.rd.com

WITandWISDOM™ ISSN 1538-8794 - Copyright © 1998-2002 by Richard G. Wimer - All Rights Reserved
Any questions, comments or suggestions may be sent to Richard G. Wimer.