One Shovel Full

ONE SHOVEL FULL (con.)

When we got home, I ran into the house and found Kathie. "Can you run over to the store? I just got pickup full of sand for the price of a six-pack."

"How'd that happen?" she asked.

"I'll tell you later. Right now I have to help Joe unload it."

I grabbed a couple of shovels and Kathie left for the store. She got back just as we were finishing. Joe drove off with his beer, and Kathie and I stood there looking at a pile of sand that really did fill our driveway. It was then that the realization of what I had done hit me. I was working the swing shift--I was due at work in just over an hour, 11:30am--how was I going to get this sand moved to the backyard.

"You know, all this sand has got to be moved to the backyard." Kathie said.

"I know, but I have to go to work now and I won't be home till late tonight. Tomorrow and Saturday I work all day, I think it'll have to wait until Sunday."

"I don't like the idea of having this sand here for three days. What if it rains? Then we'll really have a mess."

"I don't like it either. But what are we going to do? I saw an opportunity to get the sand and I jumped on it. Did I do the wrong thing?"

"No....But..."

Then Jeff, who and been listening to every word of our conversation, and who was very interested in everything we were doing, had even helped us unload the truck, said, "I can move it to the backyard for you."

I looked at him, his ten year old body, a healthy kid but a little on the skinny side. He stood there in his blue shorts and tennis shoes, no shirt, tanned, his golden hair, beached from the sun hanging down over his face. He looked up at me expectantly, brown eyes wide with anticipation, waiting for my response. I looked over at the pile of sand, and thought--no way this kid could do that. Then very quickly I realized that while he couldn't do the whole job, whatever he did move, I wouldn't have to. So I said, "OK, I'll pay you $3 for the job."

"You don't have to pay me Dad." Jeff responded.

"No- no, let's make a contract. You finish the job, and I'll pay you $3. OK?"

"OK, it's a deal!" he said with youthful enthusiasm.

I went in and got ready for work. When I left home I noticed that Jeff was already hard at work, using my smaller shovel to load the big construction wheelbarrow we had. I remember thinking that he would have a problem handling it, especially when it was full of sand.

After work, about 10:30 that night I arrived home and drove up into our driveway. As I got out of the car I noticed that it was wet, and wondered who had hosed it down. Then I remembered the sand! It was all gone, had Jeff moved all of that sand by himself?

As Kathie heard me come in the door, she looked up and said, "You're going to pay Jeff more than $3."

"Did he move all of that sand by himself!?"

"You bet he did. He worked like a trooper. He started before you left for work, and he worked straight through to dinner without stopping. And I had trouble getting him to stop for dinner. And it wasn't easy. He couldn't handle our wheelbarrow, but instead of giving up he searched the neighborhood for a smaller one, going door to door. A lady down the street let him use her garden wheelbarrow. Then he had to navigate the construction we're doing on the side of the house. It was an obstacle course. It almost broke my heart every time he took a wheelbarrow full to the backyard. He finally finished at about 7:30 and still wouldn't come in, until he had washed down the driveway. He said, 'Dad won't be happy if you came home and the driveway had sand on it.'"

I felt guilty. I hadn't believed in him, doubted that he would finish the job. That's why I had offered the money, as an additional incentive. Now I felt cheap and small. But that didn't change what was important. Jeff had done it, he'd finished what he'd started. I was real proud of him.

The next morning I thanked him for all of his hard work, and gave him $10.00.

"Jeff, you did a terrific job. You earned the extra money. I'm proud of you."

"Gee, thanks dad!" he was happy, and proud of himself too.

"How did you do such a big job without any help?" I asked.

He looked up at me, thought for a second or two, and said, "One shovel full at a time."

What a lesson those words have been for the five of us over the years. Whenever were up against a job that just seems too big, we look at each other and say, "One shovel full at a time."

THE END