In the estate where I live, people are always in a hurry.
Their mornings except mine, begin with car engines and hurried footsteps, the evenings end with tired returns. Everyone seems too focused on work, survival, and the endless cycle of doing and earning, that very little attention is left for the spaces they actually live in. It’s so bad that their trash piles up and grass grows wild.
And then, one day, a lad of about 13 if I’m not mistaken, appeared. I don’t know exactly where he came from, but his presence in the estate became familiar. His clothes gave the idea of neglect, and of a life that had not been particularly kind. Despite that, he still strived for survival instead of sitting around to beg.
So this lad began to clean people’s unkempt yards. I don’t think anyone asked him to but what I know is that he simply needed a way of survival. He would move from house to house, picking dirt off people’s yards, emptying trash cans, even cutting overgrown grass when he could. And when he was done, he would knock on the doors hopeful that food or money would be offered to him
I have paid him a handful of times to empty my trash. It was never a big deal to me. If anything, it felt like a fair exchange and it was some sort of encouragement too for someone trying, in his own way, to make something out of very little.
But not everyone saw it that way.
There is a neighbor of mine who works kind of a 9–5 job. She leaves early, comes home late, and rarely has the time to tend to her surroundings. Her yard is often in disarray, overgrown grass, unattended trash, to the point that the air around her house feels really heavy.
The lad noticed and like he did for others, he began to clean her space too. But each time he came, he missed her. Until one day, he arrived really early, determined, perhaps, to finally meet her and to be acknowledged and paid, even if just a little.
When she stepped out of her house that morning, he approached her but she flinched and told him to keep his distance. Humbly, he stepped back and, in broken English, tried to explain. He told her how he had been cleaning her yard, how he only wanted a small fee, just something for encouragement. But before he could finish, she cut him off.
“Fee for doing what?”
Her words were very dismissive.
She went on, accusing him of trying to extort her, insisting that the estate management must have hired him, that he had no right to ask her for anything. When he tried to speak again, she hushed him and ordered him out of her property.
And just like that, whatever small courage had brought him there seemed to shrink because he slouched, turned, and walked away.
I just stood there by my window, watching it all, and it didn’t sit right with me. Because it wasn’t just about the money but this kindness we’re talking about. It was about recognizing effort, even when it comes from unexpected people. More like understanding that sometimes, people are not asking for much, just a little acknowledgment, or encouragement, a little freaking humanity!
A small tip would have cost her nothing but it could have meant something to him.
Now, her yard remains the way it always was, very unpleasant to the eyes. Sometimes I can’t help but think, sometimes, it is not about whether someone deserves a fee, it is about whether we are willing to see the effort behind the ask. Because truthfully, some people are not asking for much, all they need to keep surviving in this lemon zesty world is a little kindness but it is clear that not everyone is willing to give it.
