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I was in a salon in Manila, reading a magazine, while waiting for the hairdresser to trim my hair. I saw an article that read '101 accessories for a dignified look'. The pages were filled with pictures of gorgeous models in fashionable outfits and the who's who of the society, emptying their designer bags and showing off their alleged typical contents, which consisted of their signature wallet; signature ballpen; signature scarf; signature keyholder; signature cellphone and signature breath freshener. After exiting the salon, I proceeded to a mall to put some dignity into my life. I looked for some bargain dignity at Greenbelt, Glorietta and Ayala 6750, the most exclusive malls in town. Not being able to find a good price for a dignified look in those places, I then headed to Shoemart and Landmark. As I tried on a pair of slippers on sale, I saw dignity on the mirror: no, it was not my reflection, nor anything I had tried on so far .I saw it on the ones standing beside me and at my back, clad in uniforms, serving and greeting people patiently and cheerfully, even after long hours of being deprived of the privilege of sitting down for a minute's rest. You can't buy dignity: it's a way of life. The salesclerks, most of whom are pretty young ladies are dignified people, although they do not carry a designer breath freshener in their purse. They have a rather tiring job which requires them to look good, entertain the client brilliantly and with respect and serve dutifully. They are not allowed to sit down during their long shift and, most of the time, they have to commute to and from the department store, taking more than one bus or jeepney through the tremendous and toxic traffic. They don't get paid much for all the great work they do, but they still hang on, working hard and honestly, often to support their family, parents or siblings at school. I went back home and I saw dignity once more, opening my door as I rang the doorbell: it was my housekeeper in her blue uniform. She promptly helped me with my packages, helped me empty them; set the table; serve the food; wash the dishes; ate a quick meal with my other housekeeper and went on with the household choirs the whole day, 'till she probably fainted with exhaustion in her room at about 9.30 P.M. She woke up the following day at 5.30 A.M. and was at it again. From then on, I started seeing dignity everywhere I went. It is not in a social status, nor in a status symbol. It is not in the wealth and power of a man, nor anything preciuos and prestigious he could ever own. It is in a person's choice to live honestly and work hard for this society, to allow it to carry on and flourish peacefully. I treat all these people with the greatest respect, for I am honoured to be served by such amazing, wonderful and hard working human beings. I pity, instead, all those who treat them rudely, for they do not know who they are talking to. Whoever is impolite and rude to a cab driver, a waiter, a housekeeper, a janitor (let's not forget the janitor!), a saleslady, a security guard, a vendor or a garbage collector is a poor fool who cannot recognize dignity, probably because he has never ever seen it in his entire life. As for me, when I get a real and honest job, I'll probably get myself some dignity. Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so you will not be dependent on anybody. I Thessalonians 4: 11-12 |
This is original work by Catherine Morandi, do not reproduce without her consent