Humble yet determined on Christmas Eve

December 24, 11:53 PMSeattle Jobs ExaminerTara Gowland

Previous Next

1 comment Print Email RSS Subscribe

Subscribe

Get alerts when there is a new article from the Seattle Jobs Examiner. Read Examiner.com's terms of use.

Email Address   Include other special offers from Examiner.com Terms of Use

Today I'm going to share with you some stories from Christmas Eve. Our little family - myself, my husband and our toddler, wanting to get out after being stuck at home due to the bad weather for the majority of the week, venture out to the only restaurant open at 7:30 p.m. on Christmas Eve. I was touched and humbled by the hardworking men I met tonight at a Seattle-area Wendy’s.

Rick – After giving our order to Aaron, we get to chatting with another employee - Rick. He said hello to our 2.5-year-old toddler and I asked if he had any children – he said yes, a 10-year-old girl, and promptly showed me her picture in his wallet. I asked if he got his Christmas shopping done and his sad reply was that he couldn’t do any shopping due to his finances, and I sympathized – this is not an uncommon story in this economy.

He was excited to talk about his little girl and since the restaurant was empty save for us, he quickly showed me a photo, a little worn, of a beautiful little girl with dark eyes and eyebrows who looks like a miniature Brooke Shields. She was spending Christmas Eve in Oregon tonight. She is with her mother and her mother’s new boyfriend. Rick has not seen his little girl since she was about 4 years old, and he tells me that her mother won’t allow visitation. I could see the pain in his eyes and I share a similar fate of someone I once knew who went through the same thing.

Yes, I believed he was doing all he could to see his daughter – like many dads, he was not of the deadbeat variety and I know if he had his little girl with him, he would do his best to make her happy and give her a good Christmas, though not full of toys, full of love. We spoke about my favorite place to get great deals, the Goodwill on Lane in Seattle and suggested he check it out. He shared with me that his friend worked there for a short time on a release program and is waiting to hear if he is given a fulltime job there. He himself was thinking about applying there or at Nordstrom where he heard the jobs were good. He says people are always telling him he has great customer service and I agree, hoping that this will bring him a better life.

Aaron – The energetic and upbeat teenager (or in his early 20s), Aaron speaks with the enthusiasm of a young man whose path is not yet determined. Eager that I take his photo (but Josh, the manager, can’t allow it for legal reasons), he laughs and says he wants to be famous. Unfettered by the kind of grown up problems the other men face, we all hope that he has an easier life and finds his way sooner rather than later like so many of us. His winning smile and playful attitude no doubt help keep the spirit for the others during this time of year, and I like to think that this will help him become successful in life. I picture him winning over managers in the interviews to come, and hope he picks a good career, stays in school and can expand his job horizons unlike so many others.

Josh – The manager of this particular Wendy’s – short hair cut and wearing his drive-thru earphones, he is the kind of guy who is to-the-point and driven. He is also a dad and he and his wife have a boy of 2.5 and a girl of 5. Having said that restaurant management was his long-term goal, he is a little luckier than the other 2 workers, but he too is not living in a perfect world. He commiserates with Rick and understands. Having admittedly just gotten over a rough patch with his wife, he acknowledges that he knows what it is like to struggle and have a less than picture perfect life. He too is eager to show off his kids and shows me a small keychain photo – a photo likely from Sears or from the local photography place. It’s a standard studio photo – the little girl with her long, thick hair and the little boy with his mischievous smile. When he shows me the photo, in fact he is really showing it to our son Ash – the same age as his little boy. Ash grabs the keys and stares at the photos – unwilling to let go. In a way that shows that he understands little boys’ obsession with keys, Josh disappears out of sight and returns with a set of plastic keys packaged with the Wendy’s logo – clearly something he was saving for his own little boy as the toy of the month is something completely different. I am very thankful as he gives a knowing smile.

Lastly, there is a woman sitting hunched over with a few dollar-store bags full of trinkets or necessities and a not so warm looking winter coat, who remains nameless. Having asked for a job application on Christmas Eve, she sits in the corner of the restaurant, filling out her application and trying to ignore than man that has come in and tried talking to her. She is single minded and focused.

So it is this Christmas Eve, in the midst of my own personal struggles, that I am humbled by these men and this woman – my problems are different, yes, but they seem a little less significant and urgent compared to those of these folks. But their stories give me hope - Rick isn’t giving up on seeing his daughter someday, Aaron is full of life and without a doubt has the energy to start to start to explore what he really wants to do in life and Josh, who will no doubt climb the fast food ladder.

And outside there is Paul, an older gentleman of about 60, who is the restaurant’s security guard. I ask him what he guarding and he says the food storage units are being rebuilt and the temporary storage units must be guarded against theft. Having just shoveled the walkway into the restaurant (which is obviously not part of his job description), he says he did it “to make sure it is safe for people coming in.” He says he doesn’t mind working tonight and tomorrow as he will be earning $15.00/hour, but I can’t help but think he might have been home alone at Christmas and may have chosen to work to ignore his loneliness for a little while. I thank him for shoveling the walk and go home.