To the man I met on the train this morning:
You have kind eyes and a kind heart.
You shook my hand firmly.
You were on your way to an interview.
You were more than an hour early,
and I admired that you hated being late.
You told me you wanted minimum wage
and nothing more than that.
I told you to consider your worth and
I told you you should ask for a little more.
You said minimum wage is just enough
and that if they wanted to pay you more, great.
You didn’t want to lose out on a job opportunity
so minimum wage was enough.
You scratched your head a lot.
You smiled even more, talking away.
You said you were 53, much older than my 23.
You told me stories of your sister and brother,
and how close you all stayed to each other.
You told me I was a good person. Twice.
You asked me where I worked. Twice.
You said your name only once,
and I nearly forgot but now I won’t.
I don’t know if you realized I saw the sparkle
in your eyes when you said you play Santa
every Christmas and have three really nice suits,
even a beard that can fool anyone.
I could tell that you loved all the places and kids
whose holidays I’m sure you lit up.
You never said how much you made in red,
but that didn’t seem to matter so much.
You may end up giving so much more
than minimum wage could ever pay.
But in the end, I hope your interview went well,
and your future boss pays you more
than just minimum wage.