A story I want you to read.

The boy shouted up,

"I hate you! You always order me! Just leave me alone!"

"His father just drove in to park behind the house. After a long job, sweat soaked his neck, his shoulders strained. He heard shouting before closing the car door. His heart beat faster.

Inside the house, his wife sat on the couch, face hidden in hand, crying silently.

She didn't explain it because it wasn't necessary.

He bowed his head down beside her. Gently raised his chin.

"It's okay... I'll take care of it."

He walked to his son's room. The boy blushed in anger, breathing as hard as he had just run the whole field.

"What happened?" asked the father.

"You keep ordering me! Tell me to close the door. I didn't open it! Tell me to wash the dishes, even though I didn't mess them up!"

I listened without interruption and spoke in a calm but decisive voice.

"Go shut the door."

"Dad, really? I didn't..."

"Go."

The boy hesitated, but went.

When I came back, I continued.

"Now go wash the dishes."

"But..."

"Do it."

He finished washing.

"The bathroom light is on. Turn it off."

The boy muttered softly, but went to do it.

He said very little that night. He didn't understand. He didn't want to understand.

At fifteen, he packed his backpack and went to a friend's house, swore never to go home again, but there was one thing he couldn't throw away. Those habits.

Close the door that didn't open.

Turn off the lights that didn't turn on.

Clean things that don't make a mess.

It seeps deep into the bone like thick blood under the skin.

At the age of eighteen, a family of friends suffered, both parents lost their jobs, a refrigerator with almost no expense bills.

Not having finished school, not having experience.

But he had to decide to find a job.

He heard the news of the supervisor's position at the big agricultural company. He laughed.

"Chief? Me?"

But he tried it. There's nothing to lose.

At the door, the fence was wide open, several pigs approached the street, he hurriedly closed the door, afraid it would go out and hit the car, inside, the paper was scattered along the way, he kept the trash, the bathroom door was open, the light was left on, he turned off the light and closed the door, then entered the interview room.

"Hello," said the woman behind the desk. "We accepted you to work."

He's stiff.

"What? You haven't looked at my history yet. There are many more degree holders out there..."

The woman smiled knowingly.

"We have cameras from the entrance door to the office. We observe you. We don't find the best people on paper. We find the people in charge. People who don't walk through problems like they can't see. You don't need to close the door, treat animals, save fire, or clean, but you do," she took a break.

"No class teaches that, Ku.