That's not my job!
In my life I've had many different jobs. During the years when I was a single mom and full-time college student, I taught gymnastics, video taped weddings and served as a church secretary. Those were my regular jobs. I also delivered newspapers, designed; made and sold teddy bears, occasionally baby-sat for pay and did anything else that came along that paid an honest dollar. We got through those years. WHEW!
(Roger Mucci's blog about ABE and staging his apartment inspired this blog.)
I'll never forget the pastor of my church, my boss, mentor and friend. One day I stepped down to the ladies' room and found him on his knees (not praying), white shirt sleeves rolled up, in front of a toilet with a plunger in hand.
"Father, no, that's not your job. Give me that plunger."
"Well, Marian, I appreciate it, but somebody told me this toilet was stopped up, and I'm here so it is as much my job as it is yours."
He proceeded to get that job done, patting me on the shoulder as he rolled down his sleeves and left the ladies' room. This man was the pastor of one of the largest churches in Alabama. The church employed seven full time ministers, five secretaries, (Yeah, back then we were secretaries, not administrative assistants.) a full time janitor and maybe other staff. The pastor was the top staff person. He had PHD's and ordinations and credentials galore. I was shocked to see him plunging a toilet.
He could manage a staff, run a church, and deliver some of the best sermons you ever heard. He orchestrated conventions and seminars for different segments of our congregation, from youth retreats to single adult gatherings. He knew how to run every piece of office equipment and how to use a plunger. Nothing was beneath him. He taught by example. He never "preached" to his staff but I learned more from him than I learned earning my three degrees.
Because of the lessons I learned from my long ago pastor, I try to do what needs to be done regardless of whether it's in my "job description" or not.
A few weeks ago I was at one of my listings. The owner is a dear friend and lives in another state. (I was doing my Roger imitation.) My friend had left the house when his wife died and never returned. There were basic furniture items in the house but it was sad and dreary. So, there I was sprucing it up. I, like Roger, had raided my closets and extra supplies and I had put bedspreads from my house on the beds, towels in the bathrooms, a few accessories here and there and actually was quite proud of the improvements.
I was mopping the floors when a friend of my friend rang the door-bell. I opened the door with my mop in hand. He introduced himself and I responded in kind, explaining that I was the REALTOR. He lived in the neighborhood and had noticed that a car had been parked in his friend's drive for hours and came to check. He was that kind of friend.
Now he's my friend. He keeps telling me how impressed he was to see me there mopping floors and rearranging furniture to help sell the house. I can't count the referrals he's given me. Our mutual friend called to tell me that he really appreciated my extra work at his vacant home but that was "not your job."
By the way, after my staging efforts, the house sold pretty quickly and my friend, the owner, now has listed his rental property with me. I'm not a stager and I'm not a cleaning lady. I'm a REALTOR, and I'll step outside my normal roles anytime I need to in order to get the job done. Will you?
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