"As if our employees could afford anything valuable!"
"You out there!" a voice summoned imperiously. "Associate! Are you going to buy something expensive with your discount? A flat-screen TV, perhaps?"
"Food, sir," the figure responded. "and barely enough for that."
"Well, then," came the answer, "you'll have to learn to economize."
"Economize?" the figure said gravely. "Do you believe in 'family values'?" The assembled executives nodded.
"Then come, good people. Come, and see how your Associates' families must spend the holiday!"
The ghost of Thanksgiving present.
The boardroom was suddenly shrouded in darkness. The executives and Board members found themselves looking in at a walk-in kitchen and dining area. The biting winds of a Chicago snowstorm slipped through the worn insulation around the apartment's single window.
"Your mother and daddy will be home later," a grandmother said to a crying child, "when the late shift ends."
"More than seven million American children live in minimum-wage homes," the figure told the executives. "That's nearly one American child in ten."
"I'm worried about their health," the older woman said to herself. The figure turned to the people in the boardroom.
"Minimum-wage workers experience high levels of stress," said the Associate, "especially when they're also the parents of small children."
An older child, a girl, walked into the room. "Where's the turkey?" she asked. Her face fell at the sadness in the old woman's eyes. "No turkey again this year," she said with a sigh. "Will we at least have enough to eat tonight?"
"I hope so," said the older woman, "if we're careful."
The figure turned toward the hushed assemblage in the boardroom. "A food bank here in Chicago found that 61 percent of Chicago's working poor experience food insecurity," the Associate said, "and figures like that are common all across the country."
All around the great oak table, the executives hung their heads.
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