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Labor Day Gratitude for the Invisibles
Since we moved to our home in 2005, I’ve been up and down the stairs to the basement somewhere around 13,262 times. My feet have made contact with the carpet on that staircase every day, and I’ve never thought about it.
Who made it?
How was this carpeting made? I’m sure some kind of machinery was involved. But someone, some actual person with a name and a need for that job had to show up for their shift, turn the machine on, work it, adjust it, check that it was going okay, fix it when it wasn’t. A human had to do that. Someone who probably only had a half hour lunch and maybe a long drive home. Was there someone at home waiting for them who loved them? I hope so. I wish I could know who it was specifically, so I could thank them and let them know their work made a difference to me. I would tell them: My feet had an easier time of it all these years because of you.
THANK YOU.
Look around. You’re reading this on some kind of device. Stop reading for just a second and look around wherever you are. Someone invisible to you had to show up for work (either days, weeks, or years ago) so that you could have something that makes your life good right now. The coffee cup. The napkins or napkin…
