The man walking next to me pushed himself as he walked faster and faster. “Hey,

“I said, “What are you trying to win? The marathon?”

“I need to keep myself physically fit,” he puffed.

“You are,” I said, “but why this extra effort? You aren’t going to get any younger.”

“I wish I could,” he said, suddenly slowing down.

“And why?” I asked, “do you want to get younger?”

“Because my boss is,” he said.

“Younger than you?” I asked astonished.

“Ten years younger,” he said. “Most of them are now in their late twenty’s early thirties!”

“Most of the bosses?”

“They finish their MBA’s and are grabbed by companies and are put in charge.”

“They must be good,” I said

“Yes, but with no feelings.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“They are so goal oriented, that stuff like caring, compassion are unknown to them.”

And so I thought I’d write this little story related by Fulton Oursler. Says Oursler: :I often remember with pleasure an encounter one story night, many years ago when an elderly man and his wife entered the lobby of a small hotel in Philadelphia. The couple had no baggage.

“All the big places are filled up,” said the man, “Can you possibly give us a room here?

The clerk replied that there were conventions in town, and no accommodations anywhere.

“Every guest room is taken,” he explained. “But still I simply can’t send a nice couple like you out into the rain at one o’clock in the morning. Would you perhaps be willing to sleep in my room?... Oh, I’ll make out just fine: don’t worry about me.”

The next morning, as he paid his bill, the elderly man said to the clerk:

“You are the kind of manager who should be the boss of the best hotel in the United States. Maybe someday I’ll build one for you!”

The clerk laughed. And he laughed again when, after two years had passed, he received a letter containing a round-trip ticket to New York and a request that he call upon his guest of that rainy night. In the metropolis the old man led the young clerk to the corner of Fifth Avenue and Thirty-fourth Street and pointed to a vast new building there, a palace of reddish stone, with turrets and watchtowers, like a castle from fairyland cleaving the New York sky.

“That,” he declared, “is the hotel I have just built for you to manage.”

As if hit by lightning, the young man, George C. Boldt, stood fixed to the ground. His benefactor was William Waldorf Astor – and the hotel, the most famous of its day, the original Waldorf-Astoria.

So my young friends who are now becoming bosses we should treat all people with care especially those who seek our help for under a ragged coat they may hide their wings..!

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