The next morning—
Egemed was strolling outside the company building. As he stood there staring up at it, he began to wonder how much his father had worked over the years. How many hours had he spent here? How much of his money, his strength, his days and nights? Leaving home early every morning and returning only in the evening…
Egemed thought about how responsible his father had always been. His mother was only a housewife, yet his father still managed to provide everything the family needed.
Then he remembered that day — the day he had nearly ended his life — and how his father's simple words, "Just staple the paper," had reached him with such kindness that the memory still made his heart ache.
How great a parent's love can be, he thought. Just to see their children smile, they forget all the years of exhaustion and hard work.
He murmured softly, "I'm sorry," and guilt washed through him.
"I love you so much, Father."
As he stood there lost in thought, a street cleaner walked past carrying a plastic bag.
Egemed turned to him with a gentle smile.
"Good morning."
The street cleaner didn't reply. He only stared at Egemed for a moment before bending again to gather trash from the ground.
"Do you clean here every day?" Egemed asked.
The man shook his head and continued working, back bent low.
Slowly, Egemed walked toward him and began picking up the scattered trash as well.
"You don't have to!" the cleaner said quickly.
But Egemed only smiled and continued.
"Sir, this is my job," the cleaner insisted. "I clean around your company."
Egemed straightened, placing his hands on his hips with a soft sigh. Then, without another word, he went inside the building. When he returned, he was carrying a cup of tea and some snacks on a plate.
"I brought tea for you," he said gently, holding the plate toward him.
The street cleaner flinched at the sight of it.
"Why would you do this… for a street cleaner like me?"
Egemed's voice stayed calm. "Does that mean you don't deserve my tea?"
The cleaner lowered his head, staring at the ground. His voice trembled as he whispered,
"I'm so dirty… how could I touch something from a master's plate?"
Egemed heard every word. He stepped forward, rested a hand on the man's shoulder, and offered the plate again.
"Please. I don't look down on you."
"I'll get you some water so you can wash your hands."
Before he could move away, the cleaner gently caught his wrist.
"Please, sir. Don't trouble yourself."
But Egemed only smiled. "Don't worry."
A short while later he returned with a bottle of water and handed it to him. The street cleaner was so embarrassed he couldn't even look at Egemed's face.
They sat together near the lawn and shared their tea in silence for a moment.
"May I know your name, sir?" Egemed asked.
"You can call me Leon," the man replied shyly.
"Ah. Such a beautiful name," Egemed said with a warm smile.
Leon studied him for a moment. "You're Egemed, right?"
"Yes," he nodded. "I rarely see you because I usually come here in the daytime. Do you clean every morning?"
"Yes," Leon replied.
After a brief pause, he finally asked the question that had been pressing on his mind.
"Sir… why do you treat me like this?" He glanced down at his dusty clothes, then at Egemed's neat, clean ones. "Look at me… and look at you."
Egemed smiled softly. "Our jobs or our looks don't make us different."
"That's not true," Leon said bitterly.
Egemed lifted his face to the sky and let out a deep breath.
"Can't you see? We breathe the same air."
Leon didn't quite understand.
So Egemed continued gently,
"The same air, the same world… only different struggles. Job and status don't separate you from me. I am human too."
Leon took his last sip of tea slowly.
"Do you… feel ashamed of your job?" Egemed asked.
Leon didn't answer.
"Don't feel that way," Egemed said. "The world is beautiful — but imagine it without people like you. Who would keep the streets clean? Who would make the world bright again every morning?"
Leon froze, looking at Egemed — still smiling at him, with no trace of disgust or superiority in his eyes.
"You're right," Leon whispered. "But still… to most people, we are the lowest."
"In my eyes, you aren't," Egemed replied. "Everything in this world is connected — part of a cycle. People just don't see it."
To Egemed, the cleaner was not someone to be treated as lesser. He saw a human being, doing what he must for the sake of others — cleaning the world not for himself alone, but for everyone. He didn't see dirt, or ugliness, or class. He saw someone breathing the same air, living the same life, simply trying to survive.
Leon felt something rise in his chest — a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. Someone still saw value in him.
"Thank you," he said, clutching his hands together as he smiled.
Egemed rose and gathered the empty plate.
"Then… I'll see you next time, Leon." He bowed politely. "I'll be going home today with my brother Rada. Take care. I'll share tea with you again when I return."
Leon nodded happily.
"Thank you," he said again, bowing as he picked up his cleaning tools and returned to work — smiling.
'That made my day', he murmured to himself. 'He is so kind.'
Egemed returned to his brother's room. His brother was still sleeping.
He thought to himself, 'Did my brother really sleep this late every day when he was living alone?'
He glanced at the clock. It was almost 9 a.m.
Suddenly, his brother opened his eyes and saw Egemed standing at the door, smiling, his hand still on the doorknob as if he were about to leave. When Egemed noticed that his brother was awake, he walked inside and quietly pulled the curtains open.
"Good morning, Brother. Did you sleep well?"
"Morning, Egemed. I should be the one asking you that," his brother replied.
"I slept well," Egemed said with a smile.
After a moment, when he saw his brother still lying on the bed watching something on his phone, Egemed quietly stepped out of the room.
He came back with a cup of tea, only to see that his brother had already pulled the blanket over himself again.
"Brother, wake up," he said gently.
His brother turned over and glanced at him, seeing Egemed sitting at the edge of the bed and placing the tea on the bedside table.
His brother suddenly sat up, smiling.
"You're not my wife," he laughed softly.
"So what?" Egemed replied, frowning playfully but smiling at the same time.
His brother took the tea and sipped it. "No one has ever brought me tea in bed this early in the morning."
"Yeah, so early," Egemed teased.
His brother laughed and looked at the clock.
"Egemed, thank you so much for making me feel valued," he said warmly.
"There's no need to thank me. You're my brother," Egemed replied with a smile.
"I can fold your blanket and tidy your bed too," he added with a soft chuckle.
He stood up while his brother continued drinking the tea and walked over to the wardrobe mirror, looking at his reflection.
"You're beautiful enough," his brother teased.
When Egemed heard that, he pretended to tap his cheeks, leaned closer to the mirror, and said, "Really? Am I beautiful?"
"As if that mirror has a mouth," his brother laughed.
After a while, his brother finally got out of bed and started getting ready. Egemed waited patiently, idly flipping through the documents on his brother's desk.
"Egemed, turn around," his brother said.
Egemed turned, and his brother gently pinned a gold brooch onto the left side of Egemed's coat.
"There. You can have it. Whenever you see this, remember that I — your brother — love you very much."
Egemed's heart melted. "I'll treasure it forever," he said, touching the brooch and smiling.
"Time for work, Egemed. We'll go back home by 3 p.m.," his brother said, patting Egemed shoulder.
Egemed simply nodded.