Scott Valence, Part 3,

I awoke this morning with a feeling of eagerness.  I decided to go on a stroll and look in windows of nearby shops to look for hiring signs. I can't go any long distance because my vehicle left along with my family. I shall go in quest of a job. So begins my road to recovery.1

As i exited the front door of my apartment building, a cool breeze hit my face like a brick wall. It had been so long since I had left my four walls.
The leaves were beginning to change. Fall had come over Portland, Oregon. I turned to my left and began my journey. Shop after shop passed by me. No hiring signs were to be seen. I resolved to turn back and go in the opposite direction. I began my new course. Once again, many shops passed me with no hiring sign. I was ready to give up my search when suddenly a white sign with red lettering caught my eye in a hobby shop. I squinted to decipher the message. 'Now Hiring.' Eureka! I had found my chance! 2

As I neared the hobby shop, I saw an elderly man with a shaggy grey beard that rested on the top of his large stomach. He was wearing a pair of reading glasses and reading the morning newspaper with coffee steaming nearby. I waited on the doorstep for a moment thinking of the commitment a job would require. Suddenly, I felt myself reaching for the doorknob as if I was not controlling my own movement. The door noisily opened and my foot entered. The man still did not bother to take notice of me. As I walked to a counter covered in hobby materials, the man spoke.3

"Be careful." he spoke.4

My eyes looked back at him, but he still did not look up. I reluctantly ambled to the man. Finally, he put down his newspaper and once again spoke.5

"What can I do for you?" he asked with nobility. 6

"Are you hiring?" I asked nervously. 7

"Of course we are. Didn't you see the sign?"8

"Yes sir," I answered ashamed.9

"You'll need an interview of course. Do you know anything about hobby material?"10

"No sir."11

"Call me Mr. Jameson. Sir is much too formal. I don't know much about hobbies either." as a smile snaked across his face.12

I could not help but laugh. This man was able to comfort me. He was a noble man that was very respectable. People of this caliber had never been in my life. This was definitely the godsend I needed to become clean.13

The interview was not noteable with the exception of one thing; he only asked personal questions. He did not care if I was the best employee available. He simply cared about my character. His final question hit me like a speeding bus.14

"Scott, are you a Christian?"15

"What?" I asked surprised.16

"Are you a Christian?"17

I thought about it. I remembered going to church a few times on Easter Sunday when I was a young child, but I did not know what it meant. I made my best guess of an answer.18

"No. I mean, I don't think so."19

"That is something we'll have to work on."20

"What?" I asked stupidly. He ignored my question and handed me my work attire. 21

"See you tommorrow at eight'o clock and no later!" he yelled after me as I exited the door.22

"Thank you." This was all I could say. I was speechless. A sense of pride rushed through my body. Drugs never entered my mind at this point. Recovery felt good and it was definitely working.23

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