Old Is Still Gold

By Robert Clements. Dated: 1/27/2015 10:39:03 PM

In the complex where I happen to stay, we had for many years the same security service, made up of old watchmen. They'd been with us for years, had got used to the vagaries of the residents, their temper tantrums, their kind moments, had watched the children grow up, seen many of the people move from scooters to cars and from cars to better cars, they knew the dogs in the complex and the dogs knew them and wagged their tails and even pranced about when these watchmen came by.
But slowly the residents in my complex started noticing that these same men who had entered service when they were young and sprightly, were not so anymore. Sometimes when they forgot to dye their hair, and pulled off their caps, it was noticed they had a head of grey. Very often when my neighbours came back from a foreign trip and expected the poor watchmen to carry their luggage up the stairs, they found the same men huffing and panting.
And so they started saying:
"Change the watchmen!"
"They can't run!"
"They can hardly walk!"
"If a robber comes, they'll be useless!"
One fine day, after such a meeting that the residents had gathered together for, these watchmen found they would have to leave in a month. I saw their faces and found myself looking the other way when I passed the gate. It seemed even the dogs in the colony knew their friends would soon be leaving and for quite awhile, very often in the middle of the night I heard them howling, as if wishing their old friends goodbye.
And the new men came. They came in their smart uniforms, their new peak caps, and freshly ironed ties! They walked up and down and waved their sticks, and the dogs barked at them, barked after them, and barked through the day and through the night at these new recruits. One fellow was found fast asleep at night while he was supposed to guard the gate, another watched with vacant stare while thieves stole a stepladder belonging to a nursing home and most found they couldn't identify who resided in the complex and who didn't.
"Where are the old watchmen?" asked one resident who for many years had shamelessly called them old and ancient.
"Get them back!" said another.
"Where are they?" I asked.
I found them one day as I drove past the housing complexes down the road, I stopped the car and got out, "You found a job?" I asked.
"At double the salary sir!"
"We never knew that our experience was valuable!"
"The people love us here!"
I drove away happy and sad. Sad for ourselves that in our haste to replace old people we had got rid of experienced hands and happy for them that in their being forced to venture out they had found that they were useful and needed and had got a raise and benefits beyond their wildest dreams. I remembered their fears and apprehensions, and knew that if they hadn't been thrown out they would never have known the old saying, that 'old is gold'. Sometimes we old need to be thrown out to realize we're still gold..!
bobsbanter@gmail.com

 

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