Ludmila Sergeyevna, you do understand that it’s time to prioritize younger specialists?” said the HR manager with a hint of condescension.
“And you, Elena Petrovna, have forgotten how you started?” I replied, my calm voice hiding the frustration. I’d spent fifteen years in this company, only to have an intern I once trained hand me my termination papers.
“You see, the company needs a fresher perspective,” Elena said, carefully avoiding my eyes. “New technologies require new people…”
“Oh yes, your fresh idea of writing off the bonus fund,” I shot back, my frustration peeking.
Elena paled, remembering how I saved her from being fired before. But now, she didn’t seem to care.
I walked home instead of driving, needing to clear my mind. At fifty-two, was I truly “too old”?
My phone buzzed—it was Olya, my daughter. “Mom, where are you? I went by the office, and they said…”
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just walking,” I reassured her.
When she picked me up, Olya’s concern was obvious. Over cocoa, I shared the news. She listened quietly, fists clenched with the same passion I once had.
“You know what? Maybe this is a blessing,” she said suddenly.
“How could anything good come of this?” I asked.
“First, you can finally rest. How long has it been since you took a break? And second…” She smiled. “I’ve got news.”
The following month blurred by. I sent out resumes, went to interviews, but nothing worked. Meanwhile, Olya had started dating Andrey Viktorovich Savelyev, the CEO of my former company.
“Mom, don’t make that face,” she laughed. “We met by chance in a café.”
“He immediately fell for my beautiful daughter,” I joked, though it made me uneasy.
“And he didn’t even know I was a programmer!” Olya said, laughing. “He thought I was a model!”
Then came the bombshell—Andrey proposed. Despite my surprise, I kept my reservations to myself. My daughter was happy, and that was enough.
The wedding was grand, and I saw how much Andrey loved her. He approached me later.
“Ludmila Sergeyevna, may I ask a personal question?” Andrey said. “Olya mentioned you worked at my company. What happened?”
I explained briefly how I’d been deemed “too old.” Andrey’s face darkened.
“I thought my company was above discrimination,” he muttered.
A week later, Andrey called with an offer—he wanted me to head the finance department. He’d found discrepancies in Elena’s reports.
“Your experience is invaluable,” he said.
My first day was full of surprises. Elena came to “congratulate” me.
“What a pleasant coincidence! I just wanted to wish you success!” she said, her tone thinly veiled.
“I thought I was ‘too old’ for this company,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.
Her face turned white. Later, Sergey Nikolayevich barged in, thinking his old privileges still held.
“I think a transfer to the statistics department is in order,” I said. “Great idea, considering your unconvincing reports.”
He and Elena were taken aback. The young specialists who mocked me soon learned a lesson.
“You’re young and full of energy,” I said. “But I need a new system for accounting international transactions. Deadline: one week.”
They quickly realized I wasn’t about to let them slack off.
Later, Olya entered my office. “What are you doing here in the dark?” she asked.
“Thinking,” I answered, spinning a pencil. “I used to want revenge. Now, it’s about respect, experience, and growth.”
“And what about Elena and Sergey?” Olya asked.
“It’s not revenge,” I smiled. “It’s a lesson.”
By spring, the office atmosphere had changed. Employees brought me violets, some out of respect, others out of guilt.
One day, Marina, a young specialist, came into my office. “We need your experience on the international transactions project.”
I smiled. This was what I’d hoped for—collaboration and mutual respect.
Olya arrived later, exasperated. “Mom, are you crazy? It’s 9 p.m.!”
“I got caught up in a new project,” I explained.
“You know what Elena Petrovna said?” Olya asked. “She thanked you. She admitted that your attention made her realize the importance of accuracy.”
At the quarterly meeting, I spoke to the team. “Our department’s results have been record-breaking, but it’s not just me—it’s all of us. Those who admitted their mistakes and learned from them.”
I paused, looking at Elena and Sergey. “I’ve learned that revenge isn’t the answer. It’s about respect, growth, and cooperation.”
Afterward, Elena approached me, apologizing for her actions. “I was wrong. Thank you for making me rethink my approach.”
Later, at a café with Olya and Andrey, I reflected on the changes. “You know, Mom,” Olya said, “you changed the company and all of us.”
“It wasn’t just me,” I said. “They changed themselves. Sometimes, people need a push.”
Andrey added, “The board is considering a corporate university. Would you take on the role?”
“At my age?” I laughed.
“Exactly for that reason,” he said. “Experience can’t be bought. It must be passed on.”
As we clinked glasses, I realized that age wasn’t a limitation—it was an advantage, one that allowed me to make a real difference.
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