MAY 8, 2023 – As we navigate through life, we’re often oblivious to the random influence we have on one another.
Today on my return from “Little Switzerland,” I walked past a house and yard that have been worked over beautifully by the owner. Over the years I’ve observed the substantial sweat equity he’s invested in his patch of paradise. A week ago I noticed a “FOR SALE” realty sign in the small front yard. It’ll go fast, I thought, given the curb appeal. The very next day I noticed a “SOLD” plaque in place of “FOR SALE.” Given the owner’s personal stamp on the place, I was surprised that his family was moving.
Years ago I’d been hiking past when the guy was tending his plantings on the boulevard. I stopped to compliment him and expressed my appreciation for his beautification of the neighborhood. We enjoyed a 10-minute conversation about home and grounds maintenance and improvement, during which I also learned that the guy worked as an accountant at Wells Fargo’s headquarters in downtown Minneapolis. “But apart from my family,” he said, “working here on my house and in my gardens is my main interest in life.”
This prompted me to mention the old Chinese proverb, “A man builds his house; then he dies,” meaning, home maintenance and improvement are never finished, no matter how long a life one lives.
I’d learned this saying from Lon Leclair, a guy who reported to me when I myself had worked at Wells Fargo. Technically, I was Lon’s boss, but in reality we worked as business partners in our arcane group called, “Specialized Fiduciary Services.” No one at the sprawling bank had a clue what our division actually did and didn’t much care—as long as we beat our plan, quarter over quarter, year over year, without blowing up the bank. Lon was a wunderkind whom I’d hired away from my old law firm, and he brought tremendous value to our business. He was the best educated person I knew at the bank, and when Lon wasn’t talking business, he loved to discuss economics, history, religion or philosophy. As an undergraduate, he’d traveled and studied extensively in China, and he often compared and contrasted Eastern perspectives with Western viewpoints.
One Monday when Lon inquired about my weekend activities, I described the latest progress on one of my projects at the Red Cabin. He himself had substantial experience with home improvements. It was in that context that he cited the Chinese proverb.
Today on my walk, I saw the owner of the “SOLD” house standing with his young daughter in their driveway. I stopped to ask him why he was moving from the place in which he’d invested so much time, effort and money. His response surprised me.
“I told my wife,” he said, “I’ve done all that I can do with this place. I’ve finished my work. If we don’t move to a place where I can start over, I’ll die.
“In fact—this is the crazy thing—it was you who put the idea in my head several years ago. You quoted some Eastern saying, about how a guy builds his house; then he dies. That really stuck with me, and lately it’s really bothered me, so we decided to put the house up for sale. So, I really have you to thank for my decision.
“Wow!” I said. “It’s an ancient Chinese proverb.”
“That’s right—Chinese.”
“Where’s your new house?”
“We found a place in Lake Elmo with a much larger yard—one that needs a lotta love,” he said with a smile.
I wished him well and continued on my way, relishing the way in which we influence one another, often unwittingly and across wide gaps in time.
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© 2023 by Eric Nilsson
