The Street Sweeper

This morning, before I ever got out of bed I heard the street sweeper as he started up our street. I knew it was him; I didn’t even have to see him, because he passes by regularly and I know his sound. He never yells and says “Look at me!” He never even sweeps at the same time of day. I just hear him when he sweeps this side of the street and when he sweeps that side. He sweeps and he sweeps consistently. He never honks and tells me to get up. He never trims the hedge. He never mows the lawn. He never paints the house. He never cleans the gutters. He never seals the driveway. He never dusts the house. He never vacuums the house. He never cleans the toilet. He never makes the bed. He never does the dishes. He never feeds the dog. He never cleans the bathtub. He never cleans the toilet. He never makes the bed. He never cooks an egg. He never does the laundry. He never takes out the trash. He never washes the windows. He never power washes the deck. He never plants the flowers. He never pulls the weeds. HE JUST SWEEPS THE STREET. And because he sweeps the streets the streets are always swept. Whatever you’re doing that you think doesn’t matter, matters. Whatever you’re doing that you think isn’t significant, is significant. Whatever you’re doing that you think is not important, is important. Whatever you’re doing that you think isn’t making a difference, is making a difference—in your teenager’s life, in your husband’s life, in your neighbors life, in your baby’s life, in your boss’s life, in your friend’s life, and in that stranger’s life. And whenever you think it isn’t, just remember the value of the street sweeper.