Poverty is not necessarily misery, and loss of a loved one is not the end of the world. In the late 1950’s this writer was young and knew little of the world or death.

My father worked for a large industrial manufacturing plant. He worked in management seven days a week for a long time. When this incident took place, he was working 5 1/2 days a week and in his 50’s.

A workplace accident happened, in which an Hispanic man bled to death in a matter of a couple of minutes right in front of my dad. He was most grieved by the incident as well as his life long friend who owned the company. The deceased man had twelve children, and my dad would help him with tax preparation every year; assisting him to remember the twelfth name of his children dependents. That’s a lot of kids to remember let alone support.

As he was the only bread winner at the time, his wife had to go to work to help support the family. Thankfully, the man had an insurance policy that paid off the house, leaving the family with modest expenses to deal with. In those days (believe it or not), there were no credit cards, and people stayed out of debt.

My parents hired the lady to help around the house one day a week. It was their way of being charitable without being condescending. The owner of the company offered to, and did, pay for all of their children’s college educations. He didn’t have to do that. My father mentored and monitored the well being of those twelve kids and their mother for the next 35 + years – he was a real friend to them. Today, the family would have run to the federal government for Social Security Disability and welfare, and likely the company owner would have done little or nothing to help.

Now you know a true story told truthfully, and now you know the kind of character of Americans back in the 1950’s when America was at the peak of its prosperity and its image in the world. It was a nation that demonstrated Christian culture and charity even if everyone wasn’t Christian.

Pensiamento Peligroso