That day, they came into my office to tell me that Mr. Francesco — the custodian who was filling in for the cleaning staff — had been sitting in the break room for over half an hour, even though breaks were only supposed to last fifteen minutes.
I replied,
“He’s probably not feeling well. I’ll talk to him later.”
Five minutes later, someone else came in — same message, but the tone was different.
Not concerned. Annoyed.
I got up and went to the break room.
Mr. Francesco was sitting there, his hands covering his face.
I asked if he was all right.
He said yes, and quickly stood up, as if afraid of being reprimanded.
I told him to sit back down.
I just wanted to know how he was feeling.
Then he confessed, in a low voice, that he’d had a small anxiety attack and was trying to catch his breath.
I told him to stay there, take his time, and rest until he felt better.
Ten minutes later, another person came to complain:
“Francesco hasn’t taken out the trash and there’s no toilet paper in the bathroom. Is he planning to take a one-hour break or what?”
That was the moment I lost my patience.
I called everyone into my office and said:
“Mr. Francesco has worked here for twenty-six years.
He’s a widower. He lost a son a year ago.
To get to this country, he crossed a jungle and a river.
He served in the army, defended Kuwait in 1990.
He donated a kidney. He’s had three surgeries.
He’s fifty-eight years old.
He’s done more for this place than most of us ever will.
And I don’t say that to diminish anyone, but because time and sacrifice matter.
If you see him sitting, leave him be.
If there’s no paper in the bathroom, tell me — I’ll replace it.
I can take out the trash, too. Or would one of you like to do it?
No volunteers? Then I’ll handle it.
But let Mr. Francesco catch his breath.”
“This is a workplace where anyone who’s unwell should feel safe.
You don’t need to monitor who’s doing what — I know.
I see everything. And when necessary, I step in.”
From that day on, no one ever complained about Mr. Francesco again.
Sometimes he still sits for a while, sometimes he stops and drifts off into his thoughts.
And you know what I think?
After everything he’s been through, it would be a shame if this man couldn’t even find a little peace.