There are three security guards on duty at the gate of the family home on a daily basis, one of whom is a lady. Dark-skinned and stout, but with a kind face and a smile in his actions. Whenever the teachers could not brush their faces, she would take the initiative to help swipe the card.
Kind female security guard
The other two were old men, both in their sixties. In order to live, they chose to come out and continue to work at an age when they should be teasing their grandchildren.
The three of them were divided into day shifts and night shifts. Two people on the day shift, from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m.; one person on the night shift, from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m., rests in the small duty room at night.
The duty room is a small cabinet with glass on all four sides. It was small, with only a small bed with simple futon bedding. It is not known whether they prepare their own sleeping utensils or are uniformly configured by the company.
Small guard post
I thought they only needed to be on duty during the day, not knowing that they also needed to be on night shift. Because there is really no necessary reason to be on night watch.
Once at 5:45, when I went to early reading, the weather was extremely cold, I could not brush my face anyway, worried about being late for class; I had to pat the window of the duty room, and the sleeping teacher Fu helplessly got up from the bed, tied the card to a wooden stick, handed it out of the window, and helped me swipe the card through.
Disturbing the dream of the teacher, I am deeply sorry. Only then did they know that they still had to work the night shift and could only sleep in this small and simple guard post.
I felt a surge of sympathy: the duty room did not have any heating facilities, and it was conceivable that on deeper and heavier winter nights, the thin tin huts were vulnerable and timid in resisting the cold of winter nights.
The cramped duty rooms also did not accommodate the grace of the sanitary facilities, and on cold nights, they had to walk to the student dormitories farther away when they got up at night. It is not difficult to imagine the inconvenience and grievances endured by these three security guards on duty at night.
So I developed a desire to get closer to them. Whose husbands and wives are they? Whose father and mother is it? Whose sons and daughters are they? What are they asking for? How much do you get?
I want to understand their work and life, listen to their voices, understand their joys and sorrows. In particular, I wanted to interview the female security guard to understand the joys and troubles of her work. But the right opportunity has not been made.
Today, when the kind female security guard and the gentle old man were on duty, I took advantage of the second and third lessons to return to the guard booth of the family home and wanted to chat with them.
As a result, when I first asked if they were sent by a third-party company or directly employed by the school, the female security guard raised her vigilance and immediately refused to say "I don't know" and "notify me to come here to work."
I think she misunderstood, so she quickly stated her original intention, just touched by their hard work and difficulty, and wanted to understand their work and life.
As a result, she went straight back to the top: it was not easy for all walks of life, and there was no need to pay special attention to them, let alone erect a monument for them.
He also said that each has his own way of life, and each has his own judgment. Security is a respectable profession in your place, and we may be a watchdog in the eyes of others.
I had no choice but to swear by the day, to confess with all my heart, only respect and sympathy, and no contempt or offense.
The expected touching passage of intellectuals paying attention to the "lower class people" was not staged, but was alienated and guarded by cold rejection, embarrassment and embarrassment.
I had to run away in a daze, feeling that I had no face to brush my face in front of her day by day.
Escape home, sit still, reflect. Being aware of her concerns could be, for her, an audacious disturbance, an inadvertent offense.
Perhaps in her eyes, the teachers who "get up earlier than chickens and sleep later than dogs; eat less than pigs and do more than cattle" are more worthy of pity. What right does a group of people who are struggling to survive have to condescend to pity an upright, self-reliant laborer?
Image from the web
It seems that I was sloppy. Mencius knew that compassion is something that everyone has. But at some point, mercy became a weapon that hurt people, hurt her, and hurt me.
Can't there be compassion and compassion between people based on respect and understanding?
Am I being abrupt, or am the female security guard overreacting?
Heartbroken, I calmed down a little, avoided the awe-inspiring female security guard, and detoured to the third year of high school to return to the teaching building.
——END——
This article was originally created by Lin Xia Cooking Wine, thanks for the attention, comments, and forwarding.