The Janitor Everyone Looked Through

No one needed to. His own choices had spoken loudly enough.

Mr. Finch stayed at the center.

Not as a janitor.

As chairman of the restored community trust.

But sometimes, early in the morning, I would still find him in the lobby with a broom in his hand.

“Mr. Finch,” I would say, “you don’t have to do that anymore.”

And he would smile.

“I know,” he’d answer.continue reading …