I wasn’t looking for anything big that day. Just wanted to do something useful for once. Been outta work for a while, bills stacking up, and my pride taking a hit every time I had to ask for help.
So when I saw a flyer at the library about a community clean-up event, I figured… why not? A few hours in the sun, maybe meet some decent folks, maybe feel human again.
I showed up late, wearing my old jeans and a ball cap pulled low. Grabbed a trash bag and started working my way down the street.
That’s when he walked up—Sheriff Daniels.
I figured he’d just smile and keep moving. Instead, he asked me my name. Asked what brought me out. I shrugged and said, “Needed something to do.”
He looked at me a moment, like he saw past the answer.
“You’ve got a good eye,” he said, pointing to the way I’d separated recyclables. “Ever worked maintenance or groundskeeping?”
I told him I had—years ago. Didn’t think much of it.
But after the event, as folks were taking pictures and joking around, he pulled me aside.
He said, “We got a spot opening up at the county rec center. Not glamorous, but steady hours. You interested?”
I didn’t know what to say. I nodded too fast.
Then he said something else—something I haven’t told anybody.
Not even my sister.
The sun was setting by the time Sheriff Daniels handed me his card. He gave me one last look before walking away, leaving me standing there with an empty trash bag in hand and more questions than answers swirling in my head. On the back of the card, he’d scribbled a note: “Be at the rec center tomorrow morning. 8 AM sharp.”Read More Below