The Maid

Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end.

That’s the trouble with pain. It’s a contagious as a disease. It spreads from the person who first endured it to those who love them most. Truth isn’t always the highest ideal’ sometimes it must be sacrificed to stop the spread of pain to those you love.

My truth is not the same as yours because we don’t experience life in the same way.

I’ll never understand it—why people find the truth more shocking than lies.

We’re all entitled to a bad day now and again, I heard Gran say in my head. But when they are all bad days, with no pleasant ones, then it’s time to reconsider things.

It’s easier than you’d ever think—existing in plain sight while remaining largely invisible. That’s what I’ve learned from being a maid.

People are a mystery that can never be solved.

Vile and evil are composed of the same letters. One begets the other.

No one is too high or too low for common courtesy.

Cheryl may be my boss, but she’s definitely not my superior. There is a difference, you know. You can’t judge a person by the job they do or by their station in life; you must judge a person by their actions.

For the first time in my life, I think I understand what a true friend is. It isn't just someone who likes you; it's someone willing to take action on your behalf.

I don't believe that some people are more important than other people. We're all very important in our own way.

The longer you live, the more you learn. People are a mystery that can never be solved. Life has a way of sorting itself out. Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.

Monday, floors and chores. Tuesday, deep cleaning to give meaning. Wednesday, bath and kitchen. Thursday, dust we must. Friday, wash-and-dry day. Saturday, wild card. Sunday, shop and chop.

Laughs are just like smiles. People use them to express an array of confounding emotions.

That's how a friendship is built, one small truth at a time. [Molly Gray]

I've been called many a thing in my quarter century, and what I've learned is that the common expression about sticks and stones often hurt far less than words.

That’s the trouble with pain. It’s as contagious as a disease. It spreads from the person who first endured it to those who love them most. Truth isn’t always the highest ideal; sometimes it must be sacrificed to stop the spread of pain to those you love. Even children know this intuitively.

I am your maid. I know so much about you. But when it comes down to it: what is that you know about me?

We are all the same in different ways.

Gran used to say, Never mind what others think; it's what you think that matters. And I agree. One must live by their own moral code, not follow like a sheep blindly.

I don’t cut corners, I shine them.

You can be so important, so crucial to the fabric of things and yet be entirely overlooked.

If only it were that easy,” she said. “But time, Miss Molly. Time heals all wounds, as they say.” She was right. As time passes, the wound doesn’t hurt as much as it did at first, and that’s always a surprise—to feel a little bit better and yet to miss the past.

The truth is, I often have trouble with social situations; it’s as though everyone is playing an elaborate game with complex rules they all know, but I’m always playing for the first time.

One thing I’ve learned in my business is that you can hide dirt for a while, but at some point, it all comes to the surface.

It’s funny the way memories bubble up whenever I clean. I do wonder if that’s the same for everyone—for everyone who cleans, that is.

You can't judge a person by the job they do or by their station in life; you must judge a person by their actions.

We're all entitled to a bad day now and again, I heard Gran say in my head. But when they are all bad days, with no pleasant ones, then it's time to reconsider things.

In real life, the actions you take can change the results, from sad to happy, from disappointing to satisfactory, from wrong to right.