This is a story, entirely true I promise, which I put up on the blog in July 2007. It happened in Waterford but I have changed the names.
It is the last heart warmer for Christmas- honest.
The Fish Filleter’s Tale
Peter, a young married Polish man, had a particular difficulty when he moved to Ireland from his home in rural Poland.
Peter had a hearing difficulty, was bright intelligent and very good with his hands, but his language skills in English were never going to be great. Getting a job in Ireland was never going to be easy for Peter but eventually, after much trying, he managed to find work as a cleaner, in the factory where his wife worked in Waterford.
This was not a great job but it did pay about ten times more than any job he could have found in Poland.
Then news arrived from home, his father was seriously sick and likely to die.
Peter and his wife spent all of their savings and bought return flights to Poland to see him.
Not only did they see him but he recovered, his father, as lots of Poles do, put this down to the power of prayer.
So Peter and his wife returned to Waterford.
There they discovered to their horror that both of their jobs had been filled in their absence by other, and equally needy workers from Eastern Europe.
They started the rounds of jobs again but with the same lack of success.
In despair Peter rang his father and said that they would have to go back to Poland.
Peter’s father told him, “Before you leave, go and pray in the chapel”
Peter, dutiful son that he was, did just that.
He went up to a chapel in Waterford and prayed for work.
Out of the chapel he turned the wrong way and found himself on a little lane in a warren of lanes in the old part of the town.
There was a door open in a little house in one of the lanes and Peter glanced inside.
There to his amazement was a large elderly man filleting fish at a rate of knots.
Now Peter, coming from inland Poland never saw much in the line of fish , except the odd carp at Christmas, so he just stood there, enthralled, as this man tore through these fish.
The fishmonger, saw Peter staring at him.
Now the same fishmonger was at that moment wishing to hell he could find someone to help him with this mountain of fish freshly arrived in his shop, the back of which led out to the lane where Peter was standing.
“If you are going to stand there you might as well do something” he said to Peter who just smiled at him with a total lack of comprehension.
Nothing deterred the fishmonger went to a place behind the door and grabbed a huge white oilskin apron, showed Peter how to put it on, showed him how to fillet a few fish and then just let him at it.
Peter, as lots of people who are not skilled with speech, had extremely intelligent hands, and , within a short while was filleting as if he had been doing it all his life.
The fishmonger was delighted and offered Peter a job.
Peter, still uncomprehending, came back with his wife, and then all was interpreted.
He gratefully accepted the job, with tears coursing down his cheeks.
Peter’s wife then told the fishmonger about the prayer in the chapel, and how they were now convinced that this prayer had got him the job.
Two weeks after this had happened, just a few days ago, I bought some fish in the same fishmongers and was told this story.
In the back I could see Peter flying through fish dressed in boots and oilskins looking the thorough professional.
The fishmongers daughter, who had told me the story smiled back at him;
“He is a fantastic worker”, she said” We were dead lucky to find him.”