"...and that's how he hurt his hand"

I have a new respect for people who work really hard. After reading The Five People... and Eddie's life and how much he used to loathe his father's greasy hands and then later in life his own, I found it endearing. Very indicative of a life of hard work.

A patient came in the other day wearing a work jumper with his name on a patch on the left side of his chest. When I handed him his paperwork, he reached for it with stained black hands. Instead of being grossed out and thinking something along the lines of, "Uggggh, gossssh, wash your hands already, PLEEEEASE!", I found myself admiring him. He's been a patient of ours for awhile, and he's always been very friendly when he comes in. I've never asked him about family, kids, mother, father, etc. I guess I just never thought about it. This time I found myself thinking, "I wonder who it is that he's working so hard for?" "I wonder how much he must love those people... I wonder if they're working just as hard to help him, too?" "I can't imagine that being a job like a mechanic is easy--even if it's something that you really like. It's still a lot of work, and... I wonder how much they're paid..."

I guess that's partly why I like reading books. I get to step into someone else's life--someone I'd never have otherwise thought twice about, and my life, in turn, will forever be changed. Hopefully, for the better.