Rich Dad Poor Dad. Robert T. Kiyosaki

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Rich Dad Poor Dad - Robert T. Kiyosaki


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creativity and original thought. Keep going. I’m really proud of you!”

      Disappointed, Mike and I sat in silence for about twenty minutes before we began cleaning up our mess. The business was over on opening day. Sweeping the powder up, I looked at Mike and said, “I guess Jimmy and his friends are right. We are poor.”

      My father was just leaving as I said that. “Boys,” he said. “You’re only poor if you give up. The most important thing is that you did something. Most people only talk and dream of getting rich. You’ve done something. I’m very proud of the two of you. I will say it again: Keep going. Don’t quit.”

      Mike and I stood there in silence. They were nice words, but we still did not know what to do.

      “So how come you’re not rich, Dad?” I asked.

      “Because I chose to be a schoolteacher. Schoolteachers really don’t think about being rich. We just like to teach. I wish I could help you, but I really don’t know how to make money.”

      Mike and I turned and continued our cleanup.

      “I know,” said my dad. “If you boys want to learn how to be rich, don’t ask me. Talk to your dad, Mike.”

      “My dad?” asked Mike with a scrunched-up face.

      “Yeah, your dad,” repeated my dad with a smile. “Your dad and I have the same banker, and he raves about your father. He’s told me several times that your father is brilliant when it comes to making money.”

      “My dad?” Mike asked again in disbelief. “Then how come we don’t have a nice car and a nice house like the rich kids at school?”

      “A nice car and a nice house don’t necessarily mean you’re rich or you know how to make money,” my dad replied. “Jimmy’s dad works for the sugar plantation. He’s not much different from me. He works for a company, and I work for the government. The company buys the car for him. The sugar company is in financial trouble, and Jimmy’s dad may soon have nothing. Your dad is different, Mike. He seems to be building an empire, and I suspect in a few years he will be a very rich man.”

      With that, Mike and I got excited again. With new vigor, we began cleaning up the mess caused by our now-defunct first business. As we were cleaning, we made plans for how and when to talk to Mike’s dad. The problem was that Mike’s dad worked long hours and often did not come home until late. His father owned warehouses, a construction company, a chain of stores, and three restaurants. It was the restaurants that kept him out late.

      Mike caught the bus home after we had finished cleaning up. He was going to talk to his dad when he got home that night and ask him if he would teach us how to become rich. Mike promised to call as soon as he had talked to his dad, even if it was late.

      The phone rang at 8:30 p.m.

      “Okay,” I said. “Next Saturday.” I put the phone down. Mike’s dad had agreed to meet with us.

      On Saturday I caught the 7:30 a.m. bus to the poor side of town.

      The Lessons Begin

      Mike and I met with his dad that morning at eight o’clock. He was already busy, having been at work for more than an hour. His construction supervisor was just leaving in his pickup truck as I walked up to his simple, small, and tidy home. Mike met me at the door.

      “Dad’s on the phone, and he said to wait on the back porch,” Mike said as he opened the door.

      The old wooden floor creaked as I stepped across the threshold of the aging house. There was a cheap mat just inside the door. The mat was there to hide the years of wear from countless footsteps that the floor had supported. Although clean, it needed to be replaced.

      I felt claustrophobic as I entered the narrow living room that was filled with old musty overstuffed furniture that today would be collectors’ items. Sitting on the couch were two women, both a little older than my mom. Across from the women sat a man in workman’s clothes. He wore khaki slacks and a khaki shirt, neatly pressed but without starch, and polished work boots. He was about 10 years older than my dad. They smiled as Mike and I walked past them toward the back porch. I smiled back shyly.

      “Who are those people?” I asked.

      “Oh, they work for my dad. The older man runs his warehouses, and the women are the managers of the restaurants. And as you arrived, you saw the construction supervisor who is working on a road project about 50 miles from here. His other supervisor, who is building a track of houses, left before you got here.”

      “Does this go on all the time?” I asked.

      “Not always, but quite often,” said Mike, smiling as he pulled up a chair to sit down next to me.

      “I asked my dad if he would teach us to make money,” Mike said.

      “Oh, and what did he say to that?” I asked with cautious curiosity.

      “Well, he had a funny look on his face at first, and then he said he would make us an offer.”

      “Oh,” I said, rocking my chair back against the wall. I sat there perched on two rear legs of the chair.

      Mike did the same thing.

      “Do you know what the offer is?” I asked.

      “No, but we’ll soon find out.”

      Suddenly, Mike’s dad burst through the rickety screen door and onto the porch. Mike and I jumped to our feet, not out of respect, but because we were startled.

      “Ready, boys?” he asked as he pulled up a chair to sit down with us.

      We nodded our heads as we pulled our chairs away from the wall to sit in front of him.

      He was a big man, about six feet tall and 200 pounds. My dad was taller, about the same weight, and five years older than Mike’s dad. They sort of looked alike, though not of the same ethnic makeup. Maybe their energy was similar.

      “Mike says you want to learn to make money? Is that correct, Robert?”

      I nodded my head quickly, but with a little trepidation. He had a lot of power behind his words and smile.

      “Okay, here’s my offer. I’ll teach you, but I won’t do it classroom-style. You work for me, I’ll teach you. You don’t work for me, I won’t teach you. I can teach you faster if you work, and I’m wasting my time if you just want to sit and listen like you do in school. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”

      “Ah, may I ask a question first?” I asked.

      “No. Take it or leave it. I’ve got too much work to do to waste my time. If you can’t make up your mind decisively, then you’ll never learn to make money anyway. Opportunities come and go. Being able to know when to make quick decisions is an important skill. You have the opportunity that you asked for. School is beginning, or it’s over in 10 seconds,” Mike’s dad said with a teasing smile.

      “Take it,” I said.

      “Take it,” said Mike.

      “Good,” said Mike’s dad. “Mrs. Martin will be by in 10 minutes. After I’m through with her, you’ll ride with her to my superette and you can begin working. I’ll pay you 10 cents an hour, and you’ll work three hours every Saturday.”

      20 YEARS AGO TODAY...

      DECISIVENESS

      The world is moving faster and faster. Stock market trades are made in milliseconds. Deals come and go on the Internet in a matter of minutes. More and more people are competing for good deals. So the faster you can make a decision the more likely you’ll be able to seize opportunities—before someone else does.

      “But I have a softball game today,” I said.

      Mike’s dad lowered his voice to a stern tone. “Take it, or leave it,” he said.

      “I’ll


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