Showing posts with label plumber; gratitude; life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label plumber; gratitude; life. Show all posts

Monday 17 May 2021

MY PLUMBER IS A MAN WHO LIVES A LIFE OF GRATITUDE


My plumber Bernard

When I received this photograph my first reaction was: Wow! You are looking so satisfied. And he is satisfied. Life treats him with kindness and mercy. He tells me that every night he has a roof over his head; hot water in the taps; food to eat and so the list can go on and on.

The other day we had a problem with our one specific toilet and I phoned Bernard. Yes, he can come any time I am ready to receive him. And he came. He had to travel from the other side of Johannesburg to my side in Sandton. That means he had to battle the heavy traffic despite covid-19 protocols in place in South Africa – although only on level 1, but nevertheless mid-city traffic is a problem. We battle with the taxis being somewhat of a law unto themselves and road rage and the normal other congestions of city traffic. Collisions. Delivery trucks that overturned or lost its cargo.

When he arrived at my house he got out of his car and he smiled at me and greeted me: “Good morning Uncle Neels, how are you?” Wow! This is a man just emerging from a battlefield! And he smiles. “How is Aunty Annemarié? O I am glad to hear she is also healthy and fine.” And so, the conversation goes on and on – he did not mention a word about the plumbing problem. We were discussing the recent rains and approaching winter. He told me that his one daughter is now living and working in the Lowfeld [Nelspruit town]; he is so happy that she does have a job to do. He longs for her; but she is working and is in a position to fend for herself. Nelspruit is so far from home that she couldn’t just jump in her car [or a taxi] and come home for the weekend. “Isn’t that a blessing, Uncle Neels?”

He lives a life of gratitude.


Bernard in the botanical gardens

After a rather protracted conversation he referred to the toilet. And he took out his tools and started working. Quietly. Calmly. Contently. Satisfied. He has a job to do.

“No thank you, I don’t want something to drink because it is a long way back home.” He gave me his account; and he left still very grateful for having had a job to do.

When I first met him, his hair was still pitch black. Now, it is turning grey and his movements are not as swift as a youngster, but he did a sterling job. We can breathe now!

I salute you, Bernard! I really do!