This morning, as I got ready for school, my father helped me make a quick sandwich. As he got out the deli bag of pastrami ham we had purchased the previous day, however, we both noticed something peculiar. This bag of pastrami was different from before.

I have eaten a sandwich for breakfast for the last two years. Crucial for what I deem to be a healthy breakfast, we have purchased bag after bag of ham, turkey, and other sliced meats fresh from the deli counter at our local grocery store.

Over the months, I felt as if the quality of the service was degrading. Workers appeared more sleepier. Most seemed very anxious to get home. On some occasions they would be completely off in their weight estimations, and at other times they would close the deli early without notice in their eagerness to get home.

You should never do something if you do not enjoy it.

Any work you do should never be done for the money. If you don’t enjoy what you’re doing, stop doing it now. Unless you are nearing poverty, find something you love to do, and you will be rewarded.

What is money? Is it happiness? It is not. While it is true you can purchase things from which you can procure happiness, such as amusement park tickets, there are other ways to be happy that do not involve money.

You can take a walk on the beach when it has just rained and no one is on the beach. You can hear the waves lap against the sand. You can feel the wind blow through your hair. You can outstretch your hand, putting it into the sand and making an imprint, watching it be washed away by the power of the ocean.

Is this not happiness?

This bag of pastrami was different.

The particular bag of pastrami was intricate. Normally a stack of meat piled up and wrapped in paper, whoever had been behind the deli counter had paid extreme attention to the meat.

Carefully layering the meat, he had created a “window” pattern, in which each piece overlaps the corner of the previous piece, forming a square. Every few pieces, he had placed a sheet of special paper that kept the meat from going bad as fast.

He had made it an experience – both for him, and for us, the customer.

Happy to be behind the deli counter, he was servicing customers like family. Those customers, in turn, were treating him very well. Engaging in small talk as he did his work, he seemed incredibly happy about his job.

This sort of love for the job is hard to find in a grocery store. Unlike working in a national park or serving at a ski resort, very few can say they love to package deli meat. But this man probably did.

An experience indeed.