Just Deserts

Last weekend we raked and bagged the yellow maple leaves blanketing my mother-in-law’s front yard. With temperatures in the low 50s, it seemed that all the neighbors were out in their yards mowing, blowing, raking, clipping, and weeding. It’s the necessary preparation for the long winter season that’s upon us, but being out in the crisp air doing hard, dirty work was a reward in itself.

Once when I was about 8 years old, I took it upon myself to rake up all the dead grass that had accumulated along the chain-link fence in our backyard. I made neat piles of the clippings at each corner of the fence and went inside proudly to tell my Dad about the work I had done for him. He was mildly appreciative (it was a big job for an 8-year-old but relatively insignificant in the grand scheme of our back yard). “I did all of that,” I said, then after a few more seconds of thinking, “and I’m just going to charge you...ten cents.” Dad chuckled a little and explained to me that you don’t request payment for a favor you’ve done out of kindness. I have to admit, I was a little bummed at his offering of a mere “thank you” in return for my hard work. I guess that explains why it took me 20 years to pick up another rake.