1 Can an employee do his job too well? If he/she does things too well, should he/she be praised? A promotion? Punishment? Or were you fired? Today's guest columnist told a true story about Foster. He did a good job.

I have known him at Hartsfield International Airport in Atlanta for at least eight years. At that time, he was wearing black trousers, a white shirt, a black tie and a bra. Seeing that I was trying to keep my balance, with my luggage in one hand and a plate of food bought from Pascal's restaurant in the other, he said, "I'll get it for you, young man."

The old chap grabbed my plate with a smile and left. He walks with a limp, and his legs are obviously different in length. I followed him around the escalator to an empty table. If he hadn't led the way, I wouldn't have found this empty table at all At this time, I found that he also brought napkins, straws, salt and pepper, which are small things that I often forget myself.

I saw him wipe the table with a wave of his hand, put my food away from the top of the tray and carefully put it on the table with napkins and iced tea. When he pulled the chair back, I quickly took out three Zhang Yiyuan bills from my pocket. He smiled and said, "God bless you!" "I caught a glimpse of his famous brand: Foster.

I feel very novel. I wonder if this is a new service project of the airport. Of course, I have never enjoyed this kind of "service" before. I saw other men and women wearing the same clothes as my new friend, lazily chatting together, waiting for the guests to leave the table without enthusiasm. At this time, one of them will come out of the pile, clean up the garbage left on the table, wipe the table up and down, and then go back to the group of workers.

Looking around the wide dining area, I soon found Foster's figure: he smiled happily, moved quickly and kept helping others. He never waits for a call from a guest, and he appears wherever he is needed.

I came back the next day and passed by this airport. I couldn't wait to come to the dining area again. Sure enough, there he was, an old man with a big smile on his face. He led me to a table like the day before (with napkins, salt, pepper and straws), pulled out my seat and said, "God bless you, young man!" " "

I put a 20-dollar bill in his hand that day. I was deeply impressed by the old man: he was inconvenient to walk, but he tirelessly cleared the table and looked for guests who needed to be greeted. From that day on, he was Mr. Foster in my mind.

As time went on, I developed admiration for Mr. Foster. I see him several times a month and always introduce him to my companions. When he turned his head away, I always told them, "Look at this guy, look at those people dressed like him over there." The contrast between the two is self-evident.

I never doubted that Mr. Foster was showing off his tips. In fact, although I rarely tip him less than $20, he often asks me to wait until he has served those who obviously need help. Whether they tip him or not, he always helps them set the chairs with a smile and says, "God bless you!" " "

1 1 and then he disappeared. I couldn't find this friend, so I asked the woman worker in Pascal's restaurant, "Where did Mr. Foster go today?"

12 "dismissed." They told me, "They fired him, humiliated him and sent him home!" " "

13 I was told that the management of Atlanta International Airport thought Mr. Foster had become a "disturbing person". They ordered him to stop helping customers. They said to Mr. Foster, "Just stand with the others and wait for the guests to leave before you go to work. You are just a cashier, so close it. "

14 After a few months, he came back here to try his job (still happy). However, I won't let him help me wash the dishes any more. However, I still paid a tip. He took it because I insisted. I'm crazy about him and he knows it. When he says "God bless you", he often has tears in his eyes. This spirit no longer exists.

15 went to Pascal's restaurant today. Before I could speak, a female employee found me. "I've been waiting for you to come." She said to me, "Mr. Foster has left. He resigned and left. He told them that he was old and ill, so he couldn't do the job any more. " Then she looked up and whispered, "He is not ill. There is nothing wrong with the old man. "

16 no, when I turned to leave, I thought to myself: he is not sick at all. There is nothing wrong with that old man. His illness is in my heart.