He’s 11. A real go-getter. He lives two doors down and constantly rides his bike around the neighborhood looking for work.
Maddox wants an iPhone. He’s saving up. He told my wife he didn’t think his dad would let him buy one, but he was going to save anyway in case dad relents.
Whenever Kathy went out front to water the flowers, he hustled over to ask if she had any jobs he could do. He told her he had a “Price List.” He’s willing to do anything including washing and waxing cars, helping clean houses, and pulling weeds. When asked how much he’d charge to wash and wax her 1996 Honda Accord, he decided maybe $200 or so. Kathy told him that was expensive and the professional detailer didn’t even charge that much. He assured her he was a good worker and would do a great job. She told him to talk to me.
I said the car needed to be washed and waxed, but I was thinking a lot less than $200, maybe less than half that amount. We eventually settled on $100 if he included cleaning the interior. Monday at 1 p.m. was a good time. I told him it would take three or four hours of hard work. “I’m not afraid of hard work, sir. I’ve been doing it all my life. I’ll be here at 1. Dad says I should always be on time.”
The doorbell rang precisely at 1. I uncovered the car for him. “Wow, this car is 30 years old. That’s like three of me. You should buy something newer.”
He went to work. Careful. Thorough.
He wasn’t tall enough to wash the roof of the Honda. I assured him I’d help. He frowned. “I’ll have to discount my price since the customer shouldn’t have to help. I need to do what’s right.”
Waxing a car in the hot Arizona sun was miserable work, but he kept at it, covering the car with wax and buffing a nice shine. As promised, he worked on the interior.
He took a short water break. He’d heard I was a priest. He wondered what it was like being a priest. “You probably don’t get to smoke or do dope or drink or swear, right?” I assured him I tried to avoid those things, but that I had also tried to avoid them back when I was his age.
“Was it hard for you?”
“Very hard.”
“How did you manage to do it?”
“I had to ask God to help me. I couldn’t do it on my own.”
“That sounds like good advice. Dad says I should pay attention to older folks when they give advice.”
When he finished up, I gave him five 20s. He said I should take one back because I’d had to help him. He proffered the bill. I told him to keep it, that he’d earned a bonus.
He’d taken pictures of the car, both before and after. “I’ll show my next customer the quality of my work,” he explained.
Les, next door, opened his garage just then. Maddox ran over and asked, “Would you like your car washed? I have a price list and pictures of my work! And you can talk to one of my satisfied customers.”
Les asked, “Does he do good work?”
“Absolutely. I highly recommend him.”
Les said, “I will keep you in mind. How would I get hold of you when I’m ready?”
“Don’t worry, sir, I just live across the street, but I’ll be knocking on your door regularly.”
He will. Our neighborhood entrepreneur is eager for work.
About the Author
Rod Hugen is a retired co-founder of the Village Church in Tucson, Ariz., and disciples and mentors young pastors and leaders on behalf of Classis Arizona. He is author of Parallels: a Lenten Devotional.
