This is a story about an unforgettable poem I learned many years ago.
This is a story about a very unique poem that I learned many years ago when I first started working. It has stayed with me for over thirty years and to this day still makes me smile and brings perspective to difficult situations and people.
During my last two years of high school and first few years of college, I worked at our neighborhood drug store, where my dad was a pharmacist for most of his career. This little family-owned, town-staple was called Goldin Pharmacy. The owner was a very intelligent, unique, warm and friendly character named Bernard Goldin.
This was back in the day way before Walgreen’s, Rite Aid, Eckerd’s and CVS took over the industry. During this time your neighborhood pharmacy was part of your local culture. The pharmacists were well respected and treated like doctors. Everyone knew their pharmacists by name, and many loyal customers even called them doc. Frequently, patients would ask for a private conference with a pharmacist before they even went to a doctor.
Like today, you could find just about anything at these stores like: cosmetics, over the counter medications, candy, gifts, greeting cards, cigarettes etc. However, back then, there seemed to be something much more friendly and warm about local pharmacies as compared to today. Part of the reason for that is stores are no longer individually owned and the passion for the industry, which included knowledgeable, one-on-one customer service, is disappearing.
Back then, every employee had a responsibility to connect with the customers and residents of the area. You were accountable for knowing as much about the store, the products and the patrons as humanly possible. The job included giving service consistently with warmth, kindness and patience no matter how difficult the situation or the customer. Most people came in expecting to feel better, and it was your job to help make that happen.
At times the profession and field were thankless because the expression of gratitude from customers came few and far between. The gratification came from within, by knowing you helped someone who was not feeling well. Although sometimes no matter what you did, it did not feel like enough, you never portrayed that to paying customers.
Work ethic like this starts at the top, and Bernard Goldin was no exception. He did not only talk the talk, he walked the walk. In his mid sixties at the time, Bernie stood about five foot six and had a full head of completely white hair. He carried with him an aura of respect, not only because he was the boss, but also because he treated his customers the way he wanted you to treat them, with a consistent grace and goodness that you could only admire and hope to emulate.
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