All of us come in daily contact with the “little guys,” a low-paid workers among a sea of low-paid workers. I’d like to honor those people today, on International Worker’s Day. Let me introduce you to one of these people. Let’s call him Sonny.
I wish they wouldn’t treat me like that. I know I’m just a kid. And my English ain’t too good. But I try. I don’t like how people look at me, like I ain’t worth much. I don’t wanna be here. Nobody else will hire a kid who don’t know much yet. I see my parents struggle. I can’t ask them to give me no money for fun or school or nothin’ and I see how sometimes they don’t eat unless I bring some burgers home that woulda gone into the garbage anyways. They say don’t take no handouts unless you at death’s door. We been there twice I remember. I’m gonna finish school. Go to college. Get a real job. Make it so they don’t have to worry no more. Then, when I go to Hamburger House, I’ll tip the guy and give him a high-five, ‘cuz I know why he’s there.
Next time you meet a “Sonny,” honor the work he does for you and the fellow human being that he is.
