A man came to me one day. With his head held high, he reached into his wallet, and handed me a bill, identical to the rest. A five dollar bill.
The man came every day following, handed me a bill from his wallet, and walked away. And at the end of every day, I knew I would have, at the very least, the money from the man with his head held high.
Eventually, the man stopped coming, but another one came in his place. He looked down into his wallet, handed me some money, and walked away. He gave me two bills. Two one dollar bills.
The man came every day following, expecting some sort of recognition, some praise, because he gave me more bills than the man before. I never praised him. He stopped coming.
Another man came, and, like the second, looked down into his wallet, handed me some money, and walked away. He gave me one bill. A two dollar bill.
He, like the second man, wanted praise and recognition, because what he gave me was rarer, and he felt as if I should’ve been thankful for his thoughtfulness. I never praised him either. He stopped coming.
Every man that came wanted to feel more important than the last, but none ever beat that first man, who reached into his wallet without looking.
The man came every day following, handed me a bill from his wallet, and walked away. And at the end of every day, I knew I would have, at the very least, the money from the man with his head held high.
Eventually, the man stopped coming, but another one came in his place. He looked down into his wallet, handed me some money, and walked away. He gave me two bills. Two one dollar bills.
The man came every day following, expecting some sort of recognition, some praise, because he gave me more bills than the man before. I never praised him. He stopped coming.
Another man came, and, like the second, looked down into his wallet, handed me some money, and walked away. He gave me one bill. A two dollar bill.
He, like the second man, wanted praise and recognition, because what he gave me was rarer, and he felt as if I should’ve been thankful for his thoughtfulness. I never praised him either. He stopped coming.
Every man that came wanted to feel more important than the last, but none ever beat that first man, who reached into his wallet without looking.