That morning, the sky looked somewhat overcast. The ground was still damp from the previous night's rain, and dew clung to the leaves as the sound of birdsong began to rise. As far as the eye could see, the hills and tea plantations were shrouded in mist; the sun had yet to show itself.
The farmers who usually passed by his house were nowhere to be seen on their way to the fields; the only ones visible were a few schoolchildren walking along, occasionally laughing with their friends.
That morning, a twenty-five-year-old young man named Sena sat on a wooden chair, lost in thought. He appeared pensive, closing his eyes now and then; his brow was furrowed, and his eyes looked red.
Sena felt there was no safe place in the world—except for his own small home. He was weary of the endless cycle of changing jobs; he was often forced to quit due to the mistreatment he suffered at the hands of senior colleagues.
It wasn't physical violence, but rather their tendency to treat him like a lowly errand boy. He was constantly being ordered around and frequently became the target of mockery disguised as "jokes."
Like most people, Sena had tried to accept his lot in life. When he left his previous job, he had hoped to be treated well at this new workplace—especially since a family member worked there too—but the reality was far worse; the situation had only deteriorated further.
"Drink your tea while it's still warm."
His father's words snapped Sena out of his reverie.
"Yes, Dad. Thank you very much," Sena said briefly, his voice low.
"Are you still thinking about work, son?" his father asked.
Sena didn't answer immediately. His gaze drifted into the distance, resting on his late mother's small garden. Only then, a moment later, did he speak. "I'm tired, Dad. From my school days until now—while working—I’ve never felt at ease; I always feel like I’m being treated poorly."
"You’ve changed jobs several times. The way I see it, challenges will always be there, son. You just need to learn to be firm," his father said.
"But you don't know what I'm dealing with," Sena said, his tone betraying his frustration.
His father offered a faint yet meaningful smile. He lit his kretek cigarette, took a deep drag, exhaled the smoke, and spoke.
"I don't mean to make comparisons. But I was your age once, son. I’ve been through what you’re going through; I’ve felt what you’re feeling. Parents might not be theorists, but I’m convinced our experiences are just as valuable as the theories young people like you hold onto," his father said.
Sena fell silent for a few minutes. He bowed his head, burying his face in his hands.
"You need to realize this, son: what you view as a tragedy today, you will one day see merely as a comedy. Wherever you go—even if you change your citizenship—challenges will always exist. Problems are simply part of human life. Think about it carefully: today you have a problem, you find a solution, and then the problem is resolved. Tomorrow, another problem will arise, and so it goes for as long as we live," Sena's father said calmly.
"So, what should I do? Should I look for another job?" Sena asked.
"There's no need. Like I said, wherever you work, challenges and obstacles will always be there," his father replied.
"Should I just tough it out and do whatever they tell me to do?" Sena asked again. "You just need to be firm. And learn not to take everything to heart—provided your boss treats you well," his father added.
"But for how long?" Sena asked, his tone tinged with frustration, as if his father couldn't possibly understand what he was going through.
"Until God calls you home," Sena's father replied with a faint, meaningful smile.
They fell silent for a moment. The sun began to rise over the hills, its light piercing through the gaps in the foliage and shimmering across the water in the rice paddies. A few minutes later, Sena's father placed his hand on Sena's shoulder and said:
"You don't need to expect everyone to treat you well. Keep striving until you become a victor who is remembered long after God calls you home," his father said, clenching his fist. Moved by his father's words, Sena embraced him, pouring out all the frustration and sorrow he had kept bottled up inside.
That night, Sena wrote down everything she could recall from her father’s words. She was determined to change; after all, she realized her father was right—no matter where one moves for work, challenges involving the people around you are inevitable.
One particular phrase resonated so deeply with Sena that she wrote it on her bedroom wall: "What I consider a tragedy today, I will view as a comedy tomorrow."
Now, Sena goes about her days with a sense of calm, having learned to manage her reactions and mindset. She also finds it easier to interact with her colleagues. The look of fear and anxiety that once marked her face before heading to work has been replaced by enthusiastic spirit and courage.
Whenever her friends face work-related struggles similar to those she once experienced, Sena shares her father’s words to offer emotional and psychological support. To her, those wise and kind words hold profound meaning—and the power to change the world.
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