Posted in Daily, Family and Society, Life, Personal Musings, Quotes, Stories Around the World, Work

Of Own Niche

“Don’t set your goals by what other people deem important.” Jaachynma N.E. Agu

Leafing through the high school year book and the annual school magazine, recollections of the younger days resurface to mind. From photographs with class teachers, medal winners of sports, academic and cultural snaps to the articles written by juniors, seniors and classmates bring out the nostalgia. Those days the aspirations were to be successful in life, have fun and do what we love to do.

“What we love to do in life”

Many a time, the daily grind forces us to be something that one doesn’t want to be, especially career wise. Whether it be an artist trapped in accounting, a writer trapped in the office network, a musician taking salesman post for a living; all these are required when one needs to earn their bread and butter. However, the gifted talents should never be wasted. Yet pursuing something that is completely out of one’s league is alarmingly dangerous not only to them, but to other colleagues. While attaining a basic education and graduation is important; let it not drive one to kill their own originality and become something that one never was. Each one is gifted with a special talent. While it may necessary to engage in the working network to earn the daily living; let those God-given talents never be wasted but worked on, no matter how small the progress be and let one’s work shine and speak for themselves.

“Every man has a specific skill, whether it is discovered or not, that more readily and naturally comes to him than it would to another, and his own should be sought and polished. He excels best in his niche – originality loses its authenticity in one’s efforts to obtain originality.” Criss Jami

Call him Johnnie Martin, a young Canadian boy. He was the son of a carpenter, and his mother worked as a housekeeper. They lived frugal lives, saving their money for the day when they could send their son to college. Johnnie had reached the second year in high school when the blow fell. A psychologist attached to the school called the young man, just reached sixteen, into his private office and this is what he said. ‘Johnnie, I’ve been studying your marks and I’ve gone over your various tests in motor and sensory impressions – your physical examination. I’ve made a very careful study of you and your achievements.’ ‘I’ve been trying hard,’ put in Johnnie. ‘That’s just the trouble.’ said the psychologist. ‘You have worked very hard indeed – but it has not helped. You just don’t seem able to get ahead in your studies. You’re just not cut out for it, and for you to remain in high school would, in my opinion, be a waste of time.’ The boy buried his face in his hands. ‘This will be hard on my mother and father,’ he said. ‘Their one idea is for me to be a college man.’ The psychologist laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘People have different kinds of talents, Johnnie,’ he said. ‘There are painters who were never able to learn the multiplication table, and engineers who can’t sing on key. But every one of us has something special – and you are no exception. Some day you will find what your special gift is and when you do, you will make your parents very proud of you.’ Johnnie never went back to school. Jobs were scarce in town, but he managed to keep busy mowing the lawns of the householders and puttering in their flower-beds. And then a curious thing happened. Before long his customers began to notice that Johnnie had what they called a ‘green thumb’. The plants he tended grew and blossomed, and the rose trees blossomed. He fell into the habit of making suggestions for re-arranging the tiny front-yard landscapes. He had an eye for colour and could make surprising combinations that pleased the eye.

One day while he was down town he happened to notice a stretch of unused land behind the city hall. Chance or fate or whatever you may like to call it brought one of the town’s alderman round the corner just at that moment. Impetuously the boy said, ‘I can make a garden out of this dump, if you’ll let me.’ ‘The town’s got no money for frills,’ said the alderman. ‘I don’t want any money for it,’ said the boy – ‘I just want to do it.’
The alderman, being a politician, was astounded to find anyone who did not want money, under any and all circumstances. He took Johnnie into an office, and when the young man came out he had the authority to clean up the public eyesore. That very afternoon he borrowed extra tools and seeds and soil. Someone gave him a few young trees to plant. When others heard of it they offered rose-bushes and even a hedge. Then the town’s leading manufacturer heard of it, and volunteered to supply some benches. Before long the dreary old dump had become a little park. There were grassy lawns and little curving walks and restful seats and little house for birds. All the towns people were talking about what a lovely improvement the young man had made. But it was also a kind of show window for Johnnie. People saw the result of his skill and knew him for a natural landscape gardener.

That was twenty five years ago. Today Johnnie is the head of a prosperous business in landscape gardening. His customers extend into neighbouring provinces. Johnnie still cannot speak French or translate Latin, trigonometry is unknown to him. But colour and light and lovely prospects are his bread and butter. His aging parents are proud of Johnnie, for he is not only a success – a man of affairs and a member of the best clubs in town – he has also made his part of the world a lovelier place to live in. Where ever he and his men go, they spread beauty before the eyes of people.
Source – Modern Parables by Fulton Oursler. First published in 1951

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Step back and look at the bigger picture.

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