Rich Dad Poor Dad. Robert T. Kiyosaki

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “But what do I do?” I asked.

      Rich dad tapped me on the head. “Use this,” he said. “If you use it well, you will soon thank me for giving you an opportunity and you will grow into a rich man.”

      I stood there, still not believing what a raw deal I was handed. I came to ask for a raise, and somehow I was instead working for nothing.

      Rich dad tapped me on the head again and said, “Use this. Now get out of here and get back to work.”

      Lesson #1: The Rich Don’t Work for Money

      I didn’t tell my poor dad I wasn’t being paid. He wouldn’t have understood, and I didn’t want to try to explain something I didn’t understand myself.

      For three more weeks, Mike and I worked three hours every Saturday for nothing. The work didn’t bother me, and the routine got easier, but it was the missed baseball games and not being able to afford to buy a few comic books that got to me.

      Rich dad stopped by at noon on the third week. We heard his truck pull up in the parking lot and sputter when the engine was turned off. He entered the store and greeted Mrs. Martin with a hug. After finding out how things were going in the store, he reached into the ice-cream freezer, pulled out two bars, paid for them, and signaled to Mike and me.

      “Let’s go for a walk, boys.”

      We crossed the street, dodging a few cars, and walked across a large grassy field where a few adults were playing softball. Sitting down at a lone picnic table, he handed Mike and me the treats.

      “How’s it going, boys?”

      “Okay,” Mike said.

      I nodded in agreement.

      “Learn anything yet?” rich dad asked.

      Mike and I looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, and shook our heads in unison.

      Avoiding One of Life’s Biggest Traps

      “Well, you boys had better start thinking. You’re staring at one of life’s biggest lessons. If you learn it, you’ll enjoy a life of great freedom and security. If you don’t, you’ll wind up like Mrs. Martin and most of the people playing softball in this park. They work very hard for little money, clinging to the illusion of job security and looking forward to a three-week vacation each year and maybe a skimpy pension after forty-five years of service. If that excites you, I’ll give you a raise to 25 cents an hour.”

      “But these are good hardworking people. Are you making fun of them?” I demanded.

      A smile came over rich dad’s face.

      “Mrs. Martin is like a mother to me. I would never be that cruel. I may sound unkind because I’m doing my best to point something out to the two of you. I want to expand your point of view so you can see something most people never have the benefit of seeing because their vision is too narrow. Most people never see the trap they are in.”

      Mike and I sat there, uncertain of his message. He sounded cruel, yet we could sense he was trying to drive home a point.

      With a smile, rich dad said, “Doesn’t that 25 cents an hour sound good? Doesn’t it make your heart beat a little faster?”

      I shook my head no, but it really did. Twenty-five cents an hour would be big bucks to me.

      “Okay, I’ll pay you a dollar an hour,” rich dad said, with a sly grin.

      Now my heart started to race. My brain was screaming, “Take it. Take it.” I could not believe what I was hearing. Still, I said nothing.

      “Okay, two dollars an hour.”

      My little brain and heart nearly exploded. After all, it was 1956 and being paid $2 an hour would have made me the richest kid in the world. I couldn’t imagine earning that kind of money. I wanted to say yes. I wanted the deal. I could picture a new bicycle, new baseball glove, and the adoration of my friends when I flashed some cash. On top of that, Jimmy and his rich friends could never call me poor again. But somehow my mouth stayed shut.

      The ice cream had melted and was running down my hand. Rich dad was looking at two boys staring back at him, eyes wide open and brains empty. He was testing us, and he knew there was a part of our emotions that wanted to take the deal. He understood that every person has a weak and needy part of their soul that can be bought, and he knew that every individual also had a part of their soul that was resilient and could never be bought. It was only a question of which one was stronger.

      “Okay, five dollars an hour.”

      Suddenly I was silent. Something had changed. The offer was too big and ridiculous. Not many grown-ups in 1956 made more than that, but quickly my temptation disappeared, and calm set in. Slowly, I turned to my left to look at Mike. He looked back at me. The part of my soul that was weak and needy was silenced. The part of me that had no price took over. I knew Mike had gotten to that point too.

       People’s lives are forever controlled by two emotions: fear and greed.

      “Good,” rich dad said softly. “Most people have a price. And they have a price because of human emotions named fear and greed. First, the fear of being without money motivates us to work hard, and then once we get that paycheck, greed or desire starts us thinking about all the wonderful things money can buy. The pattern is then set.”

      “What pattern?” I asked.

      “The pattern of get up, go to work, pay bills; get up, go to work, pay bills. People’s lives are forever controlled by two emotions: fear and greed. Offer them more money and they continue the cycle by increasing their spending. This is what I call the Rat Race.”

      “There is another way?” Mike asked.

      “Yes,” said rich dad slowly. “But only a few people find it.”

      “And what is that way?” Mike asked.

      “That’s what I hope you boys will learn as you work and study with me. That is why I took away all forms of pay.”

      “Any hints?” Mike asked. “We’re kind of tired of working hard, especially for nothing.”

      “Well, the first step is telling the truth,” said rich dad.

      “We haven’t been lying,” I said.

      “I did not say you were lying. I said to tell the truth,” rich dad retorted.

      “The truth about what?” I asked.

      “How you’re feeling,” rich dad said. “You don’t have to say it to anyone else. Just admit it to yourself.”

      “You mean the people in this park, the people who work for you, Mrs. Martin, they don’t do that?” I asked.

      “I doubt it,” said rich dad. “Instead, they feel the fear of not having money. They don’t confront it logically. They react emotionally instead of using their heads,” rich dad said. “Then, they get a few bucks in their hands and again, the emotions of joy, СКАЧАТЬ