It was in dire need for money three years ago that pushed me to get a job. I needed money so that I could fly to Edmonton Alberta for a church convention. The youth choir at my church had been invited to sing there and there was no way my parents would pay for it. So it was up to me to come up with the money for the flight.
I began handing out resumes everywhere, even if they were not hiring. Nothing happened. No one would hire me; I was either too young or not experienced enough. It was at this point that I went to a friend for help. She thought for a moment, “Get a newspaper route.” She told me.
That very day I called the Hamilton Spectator and inquired about a job. They called me back three days later and gave me the job. I was given a newspaper route right in my own neighborhood. It was my task to deliver the Free Press to a hundred houses for eighty cents per paper delivered. This I was to do two times a week, Wednesdays after school and Saturday mornings before I went volunteering at the old folk’s home.
During the first week I was so excited to be making sixteen dollars a week that I was blown away when I got home the first Wednesday. The first thing that I saw was two huge piles of newspaper on my front lawn. The first thing I thought was “How on earth am I going to carry all that?” I asked one of my sisters if she would help me but of course she said no.
Eventually I discovered that I could carry it all if I hung two bags on my shoulders, one on each side, and then put fifty papers in each bag. This method was extremely painful but it worked. I would walk from one house to the next, carefully placing each paper in the mailbox the way my boss told me. It had to be folded in half and then placed into the mailbox with one end sticking out. If it was a rainy day I would put the paper in a plastic bag and hang it on the bottom of the mailbox so the paper wouldn’t get wet.
As time passed I became used to being known as “Paper girl” by my siblings, however the throbbing pain in my shoulders was harder to get used to. As the weight of all the newspapers pulled down on my shoulders I would dread each day more and more. Nevertheless I would paste a smile on my face and greet anyone I happened upon with a friendly hello, except for that one lady’s dog that kept barking every time it saw me. I do believe that just pretending to be a little more cheerful made the job more easy and fun.
Each day I would leave the house humming a tune, or just listening to the birds sing their lovely song. I was amazed every time I saw the sunrise every Saturday morning; it is these moments that I loved most about the job I had. Every sunrise was different in some way or another. Some days the sky was completely clear and all you could see was a pink sky with bright orange peeking over the horizon. On other days there would be a vaste amount of colors in the sky accented by the cool breeze. I never got tired of seeing it.
As the time for the trip drew nearer, and the money accumulated, I no longer saw the need to continue the job. After having the job for a year and a half I had enough money to pay for my trip to Edmonton so I made the decision to quite the newspaper route and move on to something else. I was so sick of the pain each day of delivering newspaper brought me that to this day I do not regret quitting the job.