I hope I can express what I experienced yesterday.
It may seem like a small thing Test yet the more I think about it, it was a big thing.
I had a ticket for a train from Rome to the Italian countryside. I’d planned to retreat from the noise of the world. To write. To paint. To be.
As I climbed the steps of my coach, a man of about 35 greeted me with deep hospitality.
He smiled and welcomed me and gave me a slight bow. Yes, he bowed as each of his customers boarded his car.
I sat in my seat (because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you board a train) and lifted my luggage onto the rack above me.
Within seconds, the man was in front of me. Offering an espresso or a bottle of water or, perhaps, a glass of good red wine.
He offered his goods like his life depended on it. His eyes sparkled and he appeared to love his work. And, perhaps, the human race itself.
I sipped my water. I watched out of the window. As Italians and tourists and travellers passed by.
As the train left the station, the man spread positivity through the cabin. Some, he made laugh. To others, he delivered salami. And mozzarella. And plates of other forms of rich magic.
While he provided his guests with food, he wore a red apron. His uniform under it was perfect, I noticed. Pressed by hand—it appeared—early in the morning while the rest of the world slept.
I noted that his shoes were new. Not the expensive type but new. And clean. And polished, with care.
A god of sorts, it seemed to me. In a world of checked out, distracted, unfocused and disengaged people doing jobs they disrespect and ignoring the opportunity to be helpful, here was one who played a different game.
And he didn’t do so because his boss was watching.
No. I think he did so, I sensed, because his best self was looking. If you get my drift.
As I arrived at my destination, I had a little chat with this titan of dignity. I complimented him on his kindness. I thanked him for his service.
He told me he lived in Napoli. That he’s worked for Frecciarossa for 13 years. He showed me a photo of his lovely wife. Then one of his wonderful young daughter.
He beamed, with the pride of a man who loved the life he’d built. Through his hard work. And by the consistent living of his truest values.
As I left the train, he waved. “Ci vediamo presto,” he cried.
Oh how good so many people are. In an era of profound upheaval, war and inflation, crime and pandemics, angels still walk the planet.
I encourage you to seek them. Celebrate them (when you find them). And if you really wish to play a game that makes you special, work really really really hard to become one of them.
Oh, Test: If you’d like to make x5 gains in not only your devotion and dedication to becoming your absolute best yet also scale your productivity and success over the next 90 days in a GORGEOUS way then I’d be honored to help you…
…read the special announcement here.
Have a great day.
Robin
