When the door shut behind Susan Arkley, only three people were left in the interview room Charlotte, her little daughter, and the tall gentleman in the rather pricey suit.
Mark Anderson bent down, scooped up the pencil from the floor and stared at it as if it were more than a childs trinket. His gaze then landed on Milly.
Is this your pencil? he asked in a warm, steady voice.
The child nodded.
Thank you, Uncle, she whispered shyly, reaching out with her tiny hand.
Mark smiled, handed her the pencil and said, Hold it tight, little artist. And never stop drawing, even if the grownups tell you its pointless.
Charlotte stood frozen, halfexpecting a snide remark, a sneer, another humiliation. Instead she received calm, humanity and a touch of warmth.
Take a seat, Mark said. Ill conduct the interview myself.
Susan, still standing in the doorway, went pale. Her strained smile vanished in an instant. Mark glanced at her a brief look, but enough to be clear. She gathered herself and slipped out without a word.
Mark sat opposite Charlotte, opened the folder of documents and flicked through a few pages.
I see you have seven years experience as an accountant in a manufacturing firm, followed by a twoyear gap. Why the break?
I had a baby, Charlotte replied quietly. My husband left. I worked from home as much as I could, but now I need a steady job.
He nodded sympathetically.
And you chose our company because the nursery is nearby, right?
Yes. That would let me juggle everything.
His tone was neither condescending nor overly formal just human. He set the papers aside and asked, If I give you a chance, what would you change here?
Charlotte inhaled deeply.
Im not after special treatment. I just want to work. Im careful, determined, quick to learn, and I dont shy away from hard work. The only thing Im afraid of is not being able to secure a future for my child.
A hush fell over the room, broken only by the soft scratch of Millys crayon on the paper.
Mark leaned back. You know, he said quietly, when I was a kid my mother was on her own. My father died early. She struggled to find work because she had a baby.
Charlotte looked surprised.
I remember her coming home with cracked hands from the laundrette, washing other peoples clothes. I remember her pulling me under the table when the landlord stopped by, fearing hed fire her if he learned I had a son, he added with a rueful smile. Now the son of that very woman runs this company.
Tears welled in Charlottes eyes.
Thats why I cant stand anyone belittling a woman fighting for her child, Mark continued. Its not weakness. Its strength.
He moved a fraction closer and asked, May I ask you something, not as a director but as a person? Why didnt you give up?
Charlotte met his gaze.
Because if I gave up, she would give up too. And I want Milly to know her mother never quit.
Mark smiled and nodded. Well put.
He took a sheet, signed it and handed it over. Heres your employment contract. You start on Monday.
Charlotte stared in disbelief. But Ms. Arkley said the decision was negative
Her decision is no longer binding, he replied calmly. Mine is.
Milly turned to her mother, her face lit with joy. Mum, does that mean youll be working here?
Charlotte nodded, tears flowing freely not from shame, but from relief.
Mark smiled at the little artist. You, too, can pop by now and then. We have a childrens room for staffs kids. Youre part of the team now.
Weeks passed. Charlotte became an inseparable part of the office precise, reliable, always smiling. Colleagues liked her, and Susan Arkley was transferred to another department by the directors personal order.
One evening Charlotte stayed late to finish the reports. Everyone had gone home when the door opened.
Mark appeared, holding two steaming mugs of tea.
Still at it? he asked, stepping closer.
I want to finish this report, she said, smiling. I dont like leaving things halfdone.
Youve already proved youre the best, he replied, setting the mug on her desk. Now just live a little.
Charlotte looked at him there was no pity, no condescension, only respect and something deeper.
Thank you, Mr. Anderson. You have no idea how much youve helped me and Milly.
Perhaps I do, he said softly. Someone once did the same for my mother.
He turned to leave, but paused at the threshold.
Tell Milly I saw her drawings in the nursery. Theyre wonderful.
Charlotte laughed. Do you know who she draws the most?
Who?
You. She calls you the kind uncle with eyes like the sky after rain.
Mark was silent for a beat, then smiled faintly. Lovely. Its been ages since Ive looked at the sky that way.
Both chuckled quietly.
For the first time in years Charlotte felt life could start anew not out of pity, but out of hope, out of the belief that kindness still exists and that a single human gesture can change a destiny.
