Some months ago in an interview with a local newspaperI was quoted as saying that “Work does not pay”. Aswas expected, such a statement raised a lot of eyebrows, especially in the corridors of power. With “work” being one of the current mantras, many took it for granted that I was blaspheming.

But of course I was referring to the financial side of work. As people in the lower echelons of society surely know, the minimum wage is not enough for a family of two adults and a child to live decently. And here I don’t want to go into the issue ofprecarious work.

But of course there is another side to the story. As I’ve been involved in the helping professions for as long as I remember, I can recount a number of episodes where work could be looked at as therapy. Not only to the individuals involved but also to their close relatives.

The story of M. comes to mind. Actually I don’t remember when I met M. for the first time. If my memory serves me right it must have been in the late eighties. Or was it the early nineties?

She left school without sitting for her final examinations but she still gavethe impression that she knew what she was doing.

However, she confided in me that she was refusing to take her prescribed medication. She was articulate but her reasoning seemed a bit illogical. My efforts topersuade M. to follow her psychiatrist’s advice were futile. To me, M. was more of a lost soul.

M.’s situation continued to deteriorate and her experimenting with different substances surely made the matters worse. Then one day a friend of hers told me that M. was admitted to the psychiatric unit where I visited her several times.

For a short time it seemed that she was gaining control of her life but then she relapsed

For a short time it seemed that she was gaining control of her life but then she relapsed into her old routine, this time with more serious consequences. A spell at Mount Carmel made her see some light at the end of the tunnel.

Years passed and M. was still trying to find her way in life. She was growing older and her parents reached pensionable age. And naturally they were terribly worried about what would happen to her once they could no longer support her.

But M. seemed oblivious of this situation. She spent her days in bed or on the couch or watching television until the she got this fixation that she was adding weight. So the treadmill filled in the gaps between hours following her favourite television programmes and having long naps.

Being well over forty, M. was now feeling too old to continue her education or get herself a job. Even though she agreed with the lifelong learning concept, her excuses were imaginative. On the other hand she found it difficult to accept her reality and find the courage to do something to become independent.

Eventually, in some miraculous way, M. was persuaded to let the professionals at ETC’s Inclusive Employment Services Division hand-hold her while she looked for work. And after a third interview, she was offered a job. At first she was afraid to accept it, but with some persuasion from her friends and relatives, she agreed to give it a try.

Today M. is a different person. She looks happier, more confident and smarter than ever. Every time we meet she starts talking about her job with a glow in her eyes.

“This is the best thing that ever happened to me,” she told me. “I never realised that I am capable enough to earn my own living.”

Her parents nowadays feel on top of the world. At last their dream came true and they are grateful to the employer for giving their daughter the opportunity and the support she needed to hold on to her job.

I am willing to accept that even if work does not always pay financially, it makes a real difference in the life of people like M. and her family. I read that in 2015, 400 vulnerable persons were found a workplace. May there be many more.