In life there are certain lessons that keep coming back. Although I have learned this many times, there is one particular analogy that stuck with me. In this case, the instructor was an unusual gentleman, who happened to be selling bird houses.
The event in question took place during a road trip. It was a beautiful summer day, and I was with my father. We were driving up to the lake to visit family for the afternoon. We spoke little as we drove and mostly just took in the rolling vistas and enjoyed the hum of tires on blacktop.
As we neared the lake there was a small gas station and grocery store. It sat at the intersection of two highways, and was aptly named The Crossroads. Dad wanted to fill up and check the store for some of the local sausages. While I pumped the gas my father went inside to check the goods and pay. It was a nice day, and I waited outside for him to pay and return. On his way back he gestured for me to join him, and pointed at a small trailer where a man was selling bird houses.
My father always had an interest in woodworking, and a keen love of birds. During down time on the farm he tried to share his interest in birding with me, to some success. During winter months he often spent time in his woodworking shop, where, among other things he produced very nice bird houses.
The gravel crunched underfoot as we walked over to the trailer. Hearing our approach the man looked up from his paper. He was older and graying, but there was a wily look in his eyes. He rose and greeted us warmly.
After a brief greeting I wandered off to look at his crafts while my father talked shop with him. They discussed the finer points of wood and entry hole sizes, and I examined the houses. I was probably biased, but I remember thinking that Dad’s workmanship was superior to what was on offer.
Having seen enough I moved back to the conversation. It had turned to the economics of selling hand crafted items. This had always been a sore spot for my father – and he was often interested in how other people felt about the topic. “Do you find that people are willing to pay the prices you are asking?” The question was gently phrased and not a challenge. In my fathers case he had always struggled to get appropriate recompense for his work – and he genuinely wanted to know if this man was doing well.
A sour look came over the bird house sellers face. He paused for a few moments, weighing the choices before him. He could put on the cheerful facade, and try to make a sale, or he could take the opportunity to speak his mind. After a few moments of silence he made his choice.
“You know” he began, “there was a guy in here before you who was really interested in buying one of my houses.” The birdhouse seller paused for a moment, then continued. “He said he would give me $5 for the house he was interested in (the average price tag was $20-$40). His anger was palpable as he continued. “You know what I told that asshole?” he said evenly. My father and I both shook our heads, that no, we did not know. “I said it to him like this” he paused for effect. “I would rather burn the whole lot of them than let you have my hard work for that price.” There was a moment of silence as we imagined his hard work going up in a ball of fire and smoke. Then he continued.
“I cannot believe the nerve of these people. It is disrespectful, of me, and of my skills. The prices I ask are barely enough to cover my costs as it is. Materials alone are more than what that asshole wanted to pay.” I nodded my head along with my father. As a creative person I have often felt that my hard work was being taken advantage of, a sentiment that was clearly shared.
Once we were back in the truck and on our way my father quietly voiced his opinion. “His workmanship was nothing special, but he is absolutely right about not giving them away for nothing.”
So what is the lesson from this encounter, and why has it stuck with me for so long?
There are a few to pick from.
First, it is important to understand that since the industrial revolution it has been very hard for artisans and craftspeople to find proper recompense for their efforts. This is just another way in which our modern system has removed meaning from the lives of many people. So many of us are forced to give up the things we love and are good at for a meager paycheck – which is increasingly paltry and insufficient to afford us basic living needs.
Second, know your worth. I think that birdhouse salesman was 100% correct. It is nice to help others, and to act charitably, but we cannot ever allow our generosity to be taken advantage of. I like to think of charity in this way. Helping others is the reward for personal success. That is, when I have all my own needs covered, then I can help others. For me, being kind and generous feels good, with one caveat. I must be sure that I have my own needs and responsibilities taken care of.
As a wise man once said:
“A life of service is best, but sometimes you must serve yourself.”
Or
“Charity begins at home.”
As a final note, I have included a photo of one of my Fathers cedar bird houses. This particular house sill sits in the backyard, and is forty years old. I that that number speaks to the value of his work. It clearly needs some a little repair work – something that I will take care of before the spring thaw.
The Wild 
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