Choosing to Do It

When Ruth walked into the breakroom, her shoulders sagged at the sight of the messy table. The janitor wouldn’t come until she was off shift. She frowned at the thought of employees leaving so much work for him. The middle-aged woman sighed and decided not to eat her lunch. Beginning by picking up candy and chip sacks laying on the floor and table, she threw them in the trash. A napkin had been thrown on some spilled coffee. She took a few more napkins to finish soaking it up and hoped that that would be good enough. The coffee can and filters, now thanks to Ruth, set on the cabinet shelf where it should be.

Another employee, finishing her lunch hour, planned a cigarette break outside. She stood to leave. “Why don’t you leave it for the janitor? He’s paid to do it. That’s what I do.”

Ruth looked in the coffee maker. The filter still awaited removal. “I do it because it needs to be done.” She picked up the soggy filter and threw it in the trash.”

The other employee listened, shook her head, and left.

Ruth returned to her duties as a dietary aide in a nursing home. She made Jello and diabetic snacks and sandwiches.

When she was done, Ruth asked the cook, “Can I help with something?”

“Yes,” said the cook. “Open the green beans, put in the pan, and then the warmer.” Immediately she did it, but did not get a ‘thank you’.

After breakfast, the cereal bins were nearly empty. The other dietary aide slowly walked by the bins without filling them. Ruth knew that was the other aide’s duty, but it needed to be done. Wasn’t it the manager who said the work was a team effort? she thought. She made the trips to the storeroom to fill the bins.

When Ruth came home, she had a conversation with herself.

“Why do I do things other people won’t? It’s their responsibility. Not even a ‘Can I help you?’ Ruth, you’re doing the right thing. That’s why I’m doing it. When was the last time someone noticed or said, ‘thank you’? Maybe if I tried harder, someone would give me a word of encouragement. Cleaning up after someone else isn’t that important. Maybe I should quit trying and do like everyone else. Does God even see or care?”

Ruth started crying and didn’t quit until she climbed into bed.

***** On the city street *****

Ruth drove slowly by the city street stacked long and high with trash sacks. There was no traffic. Probably because of the smell, especially from a few broken sacks.

Ruth really didn’t want to work with the broken sacks, but a Bible verse kept ringing in her ears: ‘And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men.’ Colossians 3:23. She found that verse this morning and memorized it.

Ruth parked the car on the nearly empty street and pulled out some plastic gloves to put on. She picked up a new trash sack and headed toward the broken ones. Ruth ignored the smell, but wondered if this is how mothers feel about picking up after children and the smell of changing diapers.

While Ruth worked on the third sack, Midtown News TV van drove by, but returned to park beside her car. The cameraman got out first and started filming the long line of garbage sacks.

Ruth didn’t pay any attention. She figured it was about the garbage men’s strike and wouldn’t be interested in her. Continuing to pick up soggy, crinkly, and rank trash to put in her bag, she didn’t notice the reporter approach.

“Hello. I’m Melva Rangel from Midtown News. We are covering the garbage-men’s strike. You were suggested as a human-interest angle to the story.” The cameraman walked to the pair and started filming. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Uh. I’m Ruth Walker,” she said slowly as she stared at the cameraman. Then she turned to the reporter. “You think I’m worthy enough to make a story?”

Melva just about laughed. “Yes. Not too many people are willing to pick up other people’s trash. Why are you doing it?”

“It needs to be done. I hate seeing a mess.”

“How do you feel about the strike?”

“I don’t know anything about that. I just think the garbage-men will be faster cleaning this up if they don't have to pick up a lot of little stuff.”

“What about the smell and germs? Aren’t you afraid of getting sick?” asked Melva.

Ruth held up her gloved hands. “I take precautions. And skin is washable.”

“It’s been reported that you’ve been seen picking up trash around the Midtown Lake Park. Is that right?”

“Yes, I’ve been there. There’s work there too. I can’t enjoy the lake if I must look at litter. I try to make it a better place to be.”

“Aren’t you mad at the city park attendants for not cleaning up better than they do?” asked Melva.

“They can’t be there 24/7. So I’m just picking up the slack.”

“Well, thank you so much for taking time to talk with me. What a wonderful attitude. Thank you for the job that you are doing. Thank you for caring and for your work…This taping will be on during the ten o’clock news.”

“Hey Melva,” said the cameraman, “there’s a new street where garbage is piling up. Let’s go check it out.” Both climbed in the company van and left.

***** at Ruth’s home *****

Ruth took a shower when she got home and plopped in her easy chair to reflect on the day. All the trash, all the smell, all the lack of appreciation at work. It was worth it. All right. I didn’t talk about work. But just to know I’m appreciated by Midtown News and the people watching them is like a word of encouragement. Ruth smiled as she continued thinking. What I really want to hear is for God to say—at the end of my life—'Well done thou good and faithful servant’. That would be the best appreciation of all.

Note to Reader: Salvation is a gift from God. Not of works lest any man boast. (Ephesians 2:8-9) Wouldn’t it be awful to get to heaven and hear someone brag about how they got there?