Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Work and Passion

Strange the memories that stick in our minds!

The school I attended from grades 5 to 7 had a weekly assembly. I remember marching, with my class, down the hall and into the gym, then standing class by class in our assigned rows. Reciting the Lord's Prayer... (Yes, in a public school...) I remember this last detail because our principal, a stickler for order, taught us to start the prayer not at the beginning, but only after he had said the words, "Our Father..."

It sounds too disorganized if we don't all begin at exactly the same time, he told us. So as soon as I say "Our Father" I want you to continue with me and we'll say the rest together...

(And it's a habit I have kept until today, waiting until I hear the words "Our Father" before I begin.)

Another memory of those weekly assemblies lingers in my mind. When I was in grade 6 or 7, the principal introduced a speaker who told us about his profession. The man was an artist. By day he sold stamps at the downtown post office, but in his free time, he pursued his true passion: painting pictures. I don't remember what he said about his art, but I do remember some of his words...

I suppose you might wonder why I work in a post office if I am a painter... I remember him saying...

Well, a post office is a good place to observe people. They come and go all day... And I use what I see in my paintings.

I reflected long and hard on his words. The thought that you can have a passion for something, but have a job that is totally different has stuck with me for years. It encouraged me when I was busy doing things that were not my passion... And they reminded me that the people I encounter every day - in post offices or grocery stores or anywhere, for that matter - have many sides to their personalities.

Looking back, I wonder if that painter ever gained recognition for his art... I also wonder about my young principal... What led him to invite a painter to speak to us children? Would he have been surprised to discover that the artist's words were long remembered - by at least one student - even though dozens of other assemblies are long forgotten?!

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