A man answered a newspaper ad for a job as a delivery courier. He got the job, and his employer, an eccentric billionaire, paid him very well. The boss’ only stipulation was that the courier discharge his mission responsibly and with courtesy and cheer.
The courier did his employer’s bidding for years, carefully remembering the guidelines. Sometimes he delivered packages so heavy he could scarcely lift them. Other times he carried envelopes so thin he was afraid they’d blow away in the breeze. He took them to all points of his metropolitan area, and occasionally even farther. The whole time, he never opened a package and no one else ever did either, in his presence.
Near the end of the billionaire’s life, he called the courier to his sick room and asked him, “Do you know what you’ve been delivering all these years?”
The courier replied, “No, sir, I’ve no idea. I’ve wondered at times, but you never told me and I believed that had you wished me to know, you would have.”
“I never knew whether I was bringing people great fortunes or ruining their lives,” the delivery man went on. “My job was just to get the packages and envelopes to their destinations and to behave according to your instructions. I was always careful to behave in an upbeat manner, as you mandated.”
“Remarkable! You never even looked,” said the billionaire. “Would you like me to show you what you were delivering?” He picked up a box from a coffee table in front of him and cut the taped ends. He pulled out the flaps and pointed the opening towards the courier, who saw that the box was empty.
“Nothing!” said the older man, emitting a bellow of laughter from deep within. “All these years I was merely training you in the art of spreading joy to those you encounter. The packages themselves were all empty boxes and the envelopes contained blank sheets of paper. The heavy boxes were weighted with lead so that you wouldn’t suspect anything. ”
From his bed, the billionaire smiled. He beamed silently at the courier for what seemed a long time. “You’ve done your job well,” he finally went on. “I’ve kept tabs. The receptionists and shipping agents you’ve dealt with report that they look forward to your deliveries. They enjoy hearing you sing quietly as you get out of your car. They appreciate the anecdotes you tell them sometimes, about little things that happened during your day. They like your smile and your laugh, and especially the fact that you listen to them when they have something to say.”
“My sole purpose in employing you was to train a perfect servant. Had I heard you were not doing your job, I mean your real job, I would have reminded you once or twice, and then found someone else.”
“Your training is complete now. Whatever you do for the rest of your life will express the qualities you’ve developed over these years. And I believe that I’ve paid you well enough that you’re no longer in financial need of your job.”
“That is so, sir,” said the courier. “To tell you the truth, I did it the past few years only because I enjoyed it.”
“Well,” said the billionaire. “You may do whatever you wish now. My work is finished and it’s time to move on. Long ago, wanting to give something back to the world, I got the idea of doing it this way instead of going the more conventional route of setting up a charitable foundation. I’m not at all sorry.”
The courier bowed his head and brought his folded hands to his forehead. He could not see, though, if his longtime employer was smiling or bowing in kind, or if the words “move on” might have meant the old man had taken leave of his body right then and there. Tears were blurring his vision.
