Member-only story
What My Housekeeper Taught Me About True Wealth
And things that make the greatest impression
As I entered the dimly lit bedroom, the drawn curtains cast long shadows across the room. A frail woman lay in bed, her breaths shallow and laboured.
The sound of my footsteps stirred her, and she briefly opened her eyes. Recognising me, she whispered, “Madam,” before taking her final breath.
Constance was her name and she had been my housekeeper. She had always called me Madam. But I was never just an employer to her, and she was never just a housekeeper to me. She was family.
Although she didn’t live with us, she was the heart of our home. She prepared our meals, kept everything spotless, and made sure we were always comfortable.
More than that, she cared. She took pride in her work, not because it paid well but because she understood something many never do. It’s not what you do, or how much you make, it’s how you treat people that truly matters.
Car Breakdown
One weekend, my father, who lived in another city, was travelling through town when his car broke down in the rain. Cold, exhausted, and covered in mud from failed attempts at fixing it, he managed to get towed to our house. By the time he arrived at the gate, it was…
