I remember on one occasion admiring the detail on the table. I noticed that all of the silverware was placed precisely in the same spot. There was not a fork, knife or spoon out of place and each one was literally spotless to the point that you could see them sparkle in the light. They were centered on a perfectly folded napkin carefully squared to the table. The centerpiece on the table was always a single flower in a glass bowl perfectly placed in what seemed like the dead center of each table. It was perfection.

If you ask anyone that worked for me to describe my management style in a single word, they would say “detail”. When it came to the visual appearance of the store, I expected floors that would shine and product that was in stock and perfectly faced. My expectation was that even though we were a hardware store, our shelves would always look like the opening day at a grocery store.

During one particular breakfast, I remember being in the middle of a conversation when suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I saw a server setting the tables. I was about to identify the mastermind behind the seemingly obsessive, but perfectly set tables. I watched him as he carefully and quickly dropped a napkin to the corner of the table. A quick tweak, and onto the next. Then would come the silver. Each knife a quick wipe, inspection and careful placement. Followed by a fork and then a spoon. All perfectly placed. Finally came the centerpiece. He would pick up the glass bowl, give it a wipe and carefully and precisely place a yellow flower into the bowl and then center the bowl on the table… but there was a catch. His secret was about to be revealed.

You see, he didn’t just place the flower in the bowl in the dead center of the table, he had a routine… an unofficial, but personal stamp of approval. Before the flower went into the bowl he gave it a spin in his hand as if he were a magician performing a trick. He would then gently lower the flower as if he were holding a glass of brandy and gently place it in the bowl. His final move… a nod and a wink of his eye. That’s right, once that table was set and the last step complete, he took a step back and gave a wink and a nod to the table. He was proud of how perfect he made that table look. Then onto the next one. Every step repeated exactly the same and completed with a wink and a nod.

As we finished our meal and got up to leave I made a point of crossing the room to compliment the young man. I put my arm on his shoulder and told him that I had been eating there for several months and had always admired how perfect the room looked. I told him he does an amazing job. He looked back at me with an ear-to-ear grin, said thank you and carried on. I realized right away that the young man had Downs Syndrome. To some people they may see this as an impairment, but to him and the task he was performing, it was his super power… he had learned to not only be a perfectionist, but to take pride in his accomplishment of a job well done, and he celebrated that at the completion of every table setting.

I spent a lot of time thinking about the young perfectionist. I wondered how he came to be the proud master of such detailed execution. That secret would also soon be revealed.

A few weeks later I would receive a phone call from a school looking to find work experience for kids who were challenged either physically or intellectually. I remembered what I saw in the restaurant and immediately began to think of the potential for our store. This would lead me to the introduction of a student named Rahim – a high school student with autism. Rahim would come to work for us PT. He had an Aide that would assist him in his daily routine of stocking and facing products. In a few weeks Rahim would master his routine and his Aide would simply be there to keep him focused and motivated.

Rahim made a point of stopping by my office at the beginning of each shift to talk with me. We would briefly discuss school, work and family. He would work for us for a few years. It would lead to a partnership with his school where our company would supply lumber to the schools’ shop class and the students would turn that lumber into picnic tables, which would in turn, come back to our store where we would sell them. The proceeds would then go towards another lift of lumber for the next group of students to continue the cycle.

One day I received a call from a tv station who wanted to do a story on our collaboration with the school. It would feature Rahim, our company and our project in a segment called “Health Matters”. Rahim would be front and center along with his school. The day after it aired I received a call from a dad who had a child with autism. He just wanted to say thank you for the opportunity I had given Rahim. As his voice cracked, he told me that his young daughter was recently diagnosed with autism and the story had given him hope that their was opportunity for her in the future. I could only choke back a humble thank you and transition to how much Rahim had made a difference in our business.

Rahim would move on to graduate high school and attend a college program aligned with the trades. This would lead him to a job with a local plumbing vendor where he would sort parts. He would travel to college and to work on his own. A big step personally for any first-year college student, but a momentous step in achieving independence when you are autistic.

I think back often to the young man at the restaurant. I wonder how often customers noticed his attention to detail and how many witnessed his routine and the pride he took in performing his job. He has no idea that he was the catalyst to a series of events that would benefit many.

His attitude led me to saying yes to hiring a young man with autism who ended up making a difference not only for the employees and customers in our store, but also for the students in his school. It would teach me not only the importance of detail, but also the simplicity of execution when you take pride in your work. It would also eventually lead me to my future role as a Regional Operations manager where my attention to detail would expand into multiple stores.

Most importantly though, it taught me the value of giving everyone an equal opportunity and that attention to detail isn’t simply in the task, it is in the individual themselves. Everyone has hidden talent. You just need to take the time to spot that signature move regardless of how subtle and insignificant it may seem. It may not always work out, but when it does, it truly leads to a magical chain of events.