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Many years ago on a flight back from the UK I sat beside an 80 year old retired cabinet maker. He regaled me with stories of his youth. He began his career as a cabinet maker as a 12 year old tea boy in a wood work shop.
His job was to make tea for the men, clean the glue pots, sweep the floor and any other **** job that no one else would perform. That era is long gone and much has been lost in the loss of that coming of age process. I say this is a guy who began his work life as a 12 year old working the carnival. Many days were hard and ****py but I would not trade those days/that experience for anything.
Too few people now grow up knowing how to work hard. Work is a blessing, and there’s a satisfaction that can only be found work. I’m ready to retire, but I’m not ready to stop “working.”










