Not too long ago, I invited my children, Yulia Vasilievna and her brother, to my office to settle Yulia’s wage payment. As a responsible employer, I believe in fair compensation, but this encounter shed light on the struggles faced by those who depend on their wages. I asked Yulia Vasilievna to have a seat, and before handing over her wages, I decided to discuss some matters. “You might need the money, but why do you feel embarrassed about asking for your wages when you’ve worked for two months?” I inquired, reminding her that before her employment, we had agreed upon a monthly salary of thirty rubles.
Yulia Vasilievna hesitated for a moment, then replied, “Forty rubles.”
Surprised, I asked her to explain why she believed her wages should be forty rubles when we had clearly agreed upon thirty before her employment. She explained, “No, it’s thirty. You see, I have all the contract documents on which you’ve placed your thumbprint.”
The question of forty rubles didn’t even arise since I’ve consistently paid my domestic staff thirty rubles per month. “Alright, so you remember that, do you? Before we cut from your salary for Sundays, remember, you needed a day off on Sundays to take care of my daughter rather than teaching her to read or write. And then, you took three days off for personal errands. Remember?”
Yulia Vasilievna’s face turned pale. She wrapped her fingers around the edge of her shirt, but she didn’t utter a word.
“Not only that, you broke a cup and a plate. For this, I am deducting five rubles. Although the cup was more expensive, it came to a total of five rubles. Yet, you had no trouble taking it for yourself.”
“We subtracted Sundays because on those days, my daughter’s holiday, you didn’t help her read or write; you only spent time with her in the mornings and evenings,” she continued. “And then, for three days, your teeth hurt, so my wife allowed you to rest after lunch instead of studying. But here is how you’ve repaid us. I’ve calculated a ruble for each day of those holidays.”
“But, there were no nine Sundays or even four holidays,” Yulia Vasilievna protested weakly.
“No, no,” I corrected her. “There were. Look at your time card; everything is recorded there. Let’s see, after we subtract five rubles for the cup, we have eleven left…Oh, wait, there’s one more thing. On New Year’s Eve, you broke a cup and a plate. That’ll be ten rubles less. So, eleven minus ten is…”
Yulia Vasilievna’s left eye turned red, and her face muscles twitched. She didn’t say a word. Instead, she pressed her nose with her sweaty hand. But she didn’t utter a single word!
“From eleven,” I continued, “subtract the one ruble you didn’t earn because you broke the cup and plate. So, ten rubles are left. Are we clear?”
Yulia Vasilievna’s eyes were filled with tears, and sweat beads formed on her long, beautiful nose.
“You’re taking ten rubles from those ten rubles!” she finally whispered.
“Right,” I confirmed. “So, from the remaining ten rubles, subtract the two rubles you owe me for the boots you lost. Now, eight rubles are left. Do you understand?”
Yulia Vasilievna’s left eye turned even redder, and her nose, now like a pearl necklace with sweat droplets, was trembling.
“Eight rubles,” she murmured, “I won’t have anything left.”
“That’s right,” I said. “And before the New Year, you broke a cup, which was more expensive. So, ten rubles less for that. It’s only fair.”
Yulia Vasilievna tried to protest weakly again, “But I didn’t…”
I interrupted, “No, no, no. Don’t argue. I didn’t say you stole it. It was just that you happened to take it without asking permission, that’s all.”
So, I handed her the remaining eight rubles. “Take it, and be thankful. You’re very fortunate that I’m not like my previous employer, who gave me nothing at all.”
As she accepted the money with trembling fingers, Yulia Vasilievna muttered her gratitude. Her eyes said it all, though – the world can be a cruel place for the powerless.
As I watched her leave, I couldn’t help but ponder the injustices faced by the vulnerable in our society. It’s a stark reminder that, in a world where some have so much, others struggle to make ends meet. Yulia Vasilievna’s silent protest speaks volumes about the silent suffering of those who lack a voice to demand their rightful dues.
This experience left me with a profound realization that we must always strive to treat others with fairness and empathy, for it is through such small acts of kindness that we can make the world a more just and compassionate place.