The Second One.

“Grandpa, did you feel oppressed when you were young?”

The gray-haired gentleman seated by the window raised his eyes from his book; “No Peter, why do you ask?”

Sitting on the couch near his grandfather’s chair, Peter said, “Today my government teacher told us America’s prosperity was built on the suffering of workers, especially immigrants, and that capitalism has never succeeded without causing and profiting from the oppression of the lower classes. He also said that capitalism keeps workers in poverty to profit the businessmen who employ them. I know you came over from Germany with your parents when you were a kid, so I wanted to ask you; what happened when you came to America? Did you have to suffer so your dad’s boss could profit?”

“Peter,” replied the old man, “I think your teacher is misguided. My parents came to the United States because they heard it was a country where men could create a better life for themselves and their children through hard work. In the United States was this wondrous thing called ‘capitalism’; men could start out as a deliveryman or laborer – anything really – work hard, and someday own a big business or even be in politics. My father dreamed of owning his own business, he wanted to do something other than what his father and his father’s father had done, so we packed up our lives and moved to the States.

“Life was difficult. The home my father found was small, even smaller than the house we left in Germany. Father couldn’t find work doing what he had before, so after three weeks he took a job unloading ships. The work was hard – he would leave the house every day before the sun rose and return well after dark, hungry, sore and exhausted. He was paid little; often we had only two meals a day. After school I helped earn money for the family by standing on the corner and selling my mother’s bread.”

“Yes, life was hard for many years, but my father remained cheerful, often saying that things would get better. Sometimes he would point out a certain man when we went to mass, a man who was always dressed well and never arrived with mud on his boots. Father told me this man owned the company he worked for, that this fine and distinguished man was his boss’ boss. When I asked why this man kept my father working so hard for such long hours, my father would reply ‘It isn’t him who keeps me working, I choose to work the agreed amount to receive my pay. I work because working benefits me, not because he or any other man requires me to.’ I thought it was unfair that this man was so rich and we were so poor, but my father would answer ‘No son, that man earned what he has. Because of his business skill and hard work I, and many others, have jobs with his shipping company.’”

“Peter, even though we struggled back then, my father taught me that capitalism meant men earned their wealth through their own effort, not by exploiting the suffering of others. Yes, workers might experience hardship on the job, but they worked of their own free will – no one was forced into suffering for the benefit of their employers. Even the poorest of laborers was compensated for his work. And though some were rich and others poor, all alike were able to benefit from their own sweat. As you know, Peter, your great-grandfather didn’t work at the docks the rest of his life. He saved some money, opened his own store, and lived his dream.”