There seems to be a rash of news articles at the moment along the lines of:
How I made a gazillion when I was only 16
I never had that experience, but I did have a valuable life affirming experience that involved a £10 note.
In my teens, my daily routine before and after school was to get on my bike and cycle into the town where I lived to a small newsagent just off the market square.
There I would pick up a pile of newspapers which had already been labelled for me by the owner of the shop. The papers would be deposited into a large PVC messenger style bag which carried advertising for the local evening paper and I would head out.
My attire was entirely governed by the weather. Fine weather called for shorts and t-shirts. Rain called for a kagool and waterproof trousers, but no gloves because that slowed you down. Wintry conditions required a move to a thick coat, thick trousers and bikers gloves which, in those days, were long and came half way up your lower arm.
We delivered in all weathers. There was no option to call a parent and ask them to come round with you in their car.
Each of the rounds that we went on had a number, and an informal place in a league table from very good to quite bad. The place in the league being defined by three things – how many papers needed to be delivered, how many awkward deliveries their were, and how good the Christmas tips were. I started on a reasonably good round, eventually moving to a very good round. I can’t remember what number the round was, but think it was 7, it didn’t have too many papers, it was in the town so had few drives to go down and the Christmas tips were supposed to be excellent.
There was another huge advantage to this round, the people were pleasant.
There was one particular row of houses where you delivered the paper through the rear door because there wasn’t good access to the front. The rear gardens were relatively small yards and on most days when the weather was good the people who lived in these houses were in the back yard enjoying the sunshine or hanging out the washing. But even in poor weather they would look out for you and give you a wave as you went by. A smile and a wave goes a long way when you are wet through to your underwear and can’t feel your fingers. I would always return the greeting.
One year, at Christmas, I was delivering to the houses on the row and it was raining. There’s a particular type of rain in the area where I grew up which has travelled across the North Sea from the Baltic and slices through you as you travel through it. As I reached the end of the row the older couple who lived there open the door for me and handed me an envelope. I thanked them for it and gave them a Christmas card whilst depositing the envelope in to my PVC messenger bag.
It was only when I got how that I open the envelope – it contained £10.
These people weren’t rich, but they were generous and £10 was a very generous tip.
That £10 didn’t make me rich, but it did teach me a very valuable lesson about generosity of heart as well as financial generosity. It wasn’t the £10 that made me remember them, it was their smile and their wave. The £10 was an unexpected bonus.