When I fired Celia, a single mom, for being late for the third time that month, I believed I was just a reasonable manager.
I called her at my office and even before saying a single word, she knew why she was there. Celia didn’t say anything after learning her fate in the company, she just grabbed her purse and left.
Later that afternoon, I overheard two co-workers talking about Celia and feeling pity about her poor son who was forced to sleep with her in her car.
“What do you mean sleeping in her car?” I asked one of them before pulling her aside.
That’s when I learned the truth about the single mom I had fired, before asking if her lateness was due to any personal struggles.
Celia was evicted a month ago, so she was forced to live in her car together with her son. Her ex abandoned them and she worked two jobs whenever she could. The nearby shelters were crowded and wouldn’t accept them, but a church across town allowed them to shower from time to time. Driving to the church which was rather far was the reason she was late for work three times.
I felt sick to my stomach. That woman struggled to make ends meet, she struggled to survive, and I only made things worse for her.
That evening, I couldn’t sleep. All I could think of was Celia and her son. I did her wrong, and I had to make things right.
I tried contacting her first thing in the morning, but she didn’t pick up the phone. She neither answered my texts.
So, I decided to track her down by visiting every shelter and every food bank. But Celia was nowhere to be found.
And then, finally, a woman from a church told me that Celia was there two nights ago. But she didn’t know where she could be at that moment.
I decided to park my car there. If she was there once, she may return. And that’s exactly what happened.
When Celia spotted me, her face went pale. I got out of my car and said, “Celia, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
I offered her the job back and promised to help her find an apartment at a complex my cousin managed.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked me.
“Because while following the rules I forgot how to be a human,” I said, struggling to contain my tears.
I managed to get Celia and her son into one of the apartments at my cousin’s complex, no deposit needed. Also, I did all in my power to get her access to assistance programs. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a start.
A few days later, Celia stopped by my office to thank me for my help.
That evening, I realized that I was very close to making a huge mistake. I also realized that between policies and procedures, we forget that people aren’t just numbers on spreadsheets. Everyone is fighting their own battle, and sometimes, all they need is someone willing to listen.