Runner Up: Sheryl Winters
Fort Myers, Florida
Congratulations, Sheryl!
Sheyl's Bio:
Editor-in-chief of her high school's weekly newspaper, Sheryl dreamed of a career as a journalist. Fate had other plans. Her life's journey instead took her down paths as an employment counselor, legal assistant in her husband's law office, and innkeeper of their bed and breakfast. Now retired and living in Florida, she writes poetry, song lyrics, children's stories, and enters fiction and non-fiction writing contests. Several of her poems have been published. She is currently seeking a recording contract for several of her song lyrics. Sheryl loves to travel, read, swim, and has recently become addicted to knitting. If you'd like to on-line chat with her, she can be contacted at sherylwinters@comcast.net.
A Flicker in Time
By Sheryl Winters
I scratched down some notes and phoned the local paper to place the ad. This was one of the most enjoyable parts of the job of running an employment agency. I controlled the flow of applicants by the type of advertising I decided to run.
“Personnel Director needed with strong background in interviewing and screening,” I told the newspaper employee. “College degree preferred but not necessary. Experience more important than educational background.” That should bring in some interesting people, I mused to myself.
I was right. The next morning brought numerous phone inquiries. I screened out a couple of applicants based on their experience level. I knew this employer well and what kind of people he liked. After all, the personnel director was my contact and I was working on finding his replacement.
“Yes, Bill, I can see you today at 2:30 p.m.,” I told the next caller. He sounded like a strong candidate, and I set up an appointment to interview him. I was excited.
There was something about this business that put my endorphins in overdrive. And, when I matched up the right applicant with the correct employer, it was as if I had performed a marriage ceremony. I was changing people’s lives…I was making a difference. It was a special high. I loved it!
Bill arrived at the office just as a powerful thunderstorm passed through. We joked about the “Thunder Gods” bowling as the lights flickered. The power finally lost its struggle to stay on. The room turned pitch black. There we were staring at each other across my desk in complete darkness.
Our offices were on the ground floor of an old department store with retail and service businesses on the lower levels and professional offices on the upper floors. We had no windows. Next door to our office was a gift and card shop.
Suddenly, it was as if a light bulb went off in my brain. Perhaps I could feel my way to the door and make my way down the hall and into the gift shop where they sold candles. They probably had some lit at this very moment. It was worth a try.
“And there shall be light!” Gladys, the shopkeeper, sang out as I shuffled in her door. Yes, her whole store was lit up with candles burning. I purchased a couple of tall ones with double wicks and headed back to finish my overdue interview with Bill.
“Success,” I said as I set the lit candles down on my desk. “Let’s finally get this interview going and see if you are the man for the job.” I was starting to get excited again about the possibility of Bill being the right candidate.
“I’ve had a lot of interviewing experience,” Bill explained. “I know you mentioned that in your ad for the position. I also found people jobs.”
“Yes, that is one of the main qualifications this employer is asking for,” I went on to elucidate. “Tell me more. What kind of people did you interview and where did you get this experience?” I asked him.
By now the flickering candles were throwing flaming patterns of reds and yellows as we gazed at each other. We were caught in the fiery glow of the moment.
“I was uh…uh… in charge of helping inmates find positions as they were released from prison.” Bill stuttered rather embarrassingly. “I interviewed them to determine their strengths and weaknesses so they could make it on the outside. And then I tried to find an employer who would give them a second chance.”
“That was certainly a challenging position,” I remarked. “Was this a civil service position?” The employer would love me to find him a former government employee who had security clearances, I thought smugly. Yes, this was sounding better all the time.
“No,” Bill confessed. “I was an inmate, too. It was part of my prison responsibilities. But, I got very good at it. It was almost like a real personnel job.”
My face flushed. He could not see it because of the dim lighting. I realized I was now interviewing an ex-con.
I’m not prejudiced! I told myself. Bill probably served time for some kind of white-collar crime. He has paid his dues and now he is trying to make something of himself. After all, that is why he’s here.
I started to relax a little. It would certainly be rewarding to help someone like Bill who probably just got a bum rap.
“Do you mind telling me what you went to prison for? What sort of crime?” I queried.
After all, that would explain everything. He certainly seemed open and actually proud of his accomplishments with his work with the inmates.
“Arson,” he blurted out. The candles responded to his fervor with their flickering.
I hoped he didn’t hear me gasp. I had to pinch myself. Yes, here I was interviewing a convicted arsonist by candlelight.
“Now, that’s one for the books,” I murmured to myself. “No one is going to believe this.” I could hardly believe it myself.
I suddenly felt cold and clammy. The heat of the moment had turned to a chill. My feelings of compassion and empathy were disappearing right along with the burning candles. Was it the irony of the situation or was it something else?
Just then, the power came back on. Reality was restored. I snuffed out the emergency candles and straightened up my desk.
Without saying a word, Bill got up and walked out the door. I never heard from him again.
"This was no coincidence," I told my husband as I explained the odd turn of the day's events at the office. I always believed that people pass through our lives for a reason. What was the lesson from this encounter with Bill? What was smoldering in the darkness of my soul? No doubt, I had missed an opportunity that would never present itself again. Had my personal prejudices smothered me from assisting him?
Many years have passed giving me plenty of time to reflect on this incident. It continues to tug at my conscience. Sometimes we wear blinders that block out the light and the truth. It is only when the arsonist in each of us ignites the flame of compassion that we can actually aid one another. I was too proud to help a felon. I had missed the message of the flicker in time.
***
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