Stained Glass Masquerade
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Stained Glass Masquerade[1]
the masquerade unfolds
She stepped into the freedom tower. Stunning, with deep set eyes and a sharp nose. Her almost flawless face was framed by straight flowing hair. Security stopped her, "Excuse me ma'am..." He was cut short with a pass being flashed right in front of his face. She brushed past him briskly and took the lift up to the 99th floor.
"Good morning, Ms Chavez," voices sounded one after the other as she moved through the large office, almost as if she was stepping on "on" buttons as she moved past every row of office desks, past groggy accountants and secretaries. She replied with no more than a slight lifting up of her side of her lips, her gaze fixed at her workplace.
Sitting herself down on the chair, she opened her laptop and began to look through her proposal once again. What was I thinking! Such a terrible proposal. Lousy workmanship. She thought in anger. She looked out over the sea of dreaming workers spread before her view, the advantage of having an office at the very back with windows like that of a fish-eye lens. All dreaming, none working. Never mind, I'll do it all myself; they are such amateurs in the field of management anyway.
unbeknownst
"Dear, do you want me to bring dinner to you again?" Mr Shaler poked his head through the door. Tap, tap, tap. "I assume that as a yes," his warm voice was followed by a bright stream of light that flooded into the table lamp-lit room. "Oh dear, it's rather dark in here. I don't want you to destroy your beautiful eyes," he switched on the large florescent light. "Turn it off; electricity does not come free," Mrs Shaler spoke.
Mr Shaler did a little twirl with the plate of food before placing it down on the desk. "Turn it off," Mrs Shaler replied without looking up from her work. "O...k," Mr Shaler hesitated. His eyes always told a story, almost everyone but his wife can read them. Now, they told of hurt. Who in that room knew?
"If you need anything else do tell me ok?" Mr Shaler finally said, turning the lights off as he stepped out of the door, closing it quietly behind him.
ground zero
She stepped into the conference room. Eyes turned towards her and she replied with an enchanting smile. "Good morning Mr Oak, fellow consultants!" "Good morning Ms Chavez," the large burly manager smiled. "Ok, let's begin!"
The first consultant began, droning on and on. Amateurs... what a bunch of them. Ms Chavez's eyes carefully judged each and every consultant, noting the flaws so that she may question them about it. Questions... from experience, they show careful thought and leave a good impression upon the client's mind even before one's presentation.
Sure enough, each and every consultant had their mistakes pinpointed by her. Though the manager might initially seem impressed with any one's proposal, he would be quick to change his mind. After all, Ms Chavez thought through everything so carefully.
race
Shawn Shaler was about to open the door to say goodnight to his mother when his father pulled him away.
"Don't be so insensitive son. Can't you hear your mother is getting rather frustrated?" Mr Shaler said in an angry whisper, rather annoyed at his son. Father and son put their ears anxiously to the door. After quite a while of silence, Mr Shaler finally relented, "Maybe we should just at least whisper a goodnight to her, don't you think?"
Sure enough, Mrs Shaler was furiously typing away. Even when her husband and son wished her goodnight in unison, she did not look up, or to say the least straighten up her back that was leaning intently over the screen.
Draft after draft, the proposal never seemed to be good enough. As she finally gave up and prepared to settle down for the night, the perfectionist in her screamed in agony.
No, she had not given up. Restarting her laptop and looking through the proposal, she found herself deleting and retyping. Delete and retype. In this manner she went on throughout most of the morning until 4a.m. when her body, tired from the past few sleepless nights, finally gave in. Hands limp, head on the table, she dozed off.
fatigue
Ms Chavez took a sip of the coffee that she had sneaked into the conference room. Her body rebelled against her as it began to tire, and just in time too, for she was up next.
She barely pulled it off, her conscious self sensed the unsatisfied looked in the manager's eyes. The good impressions, the careful thought and alertness during other people's proposals, all came down to nothing with her own lousy one.
"Alright, thank you consultants. I will discuss with my board of directors and we will inform you of our decision by the end of today," Mr Oak ended with a forced grin.
"Thank you, Mr Oaks," Ms Chavez said before stepping out of the conference, in a hurry to get out of sight before her tears could flow. But they didn't. No, good impressions must be maintained at all times.
crash
There was someone in her office, looking out through the bird's eye windows. Even before she could storm into the office, her accountant, or so she thought, gave her a large stack of papers, saying, "Mrs Shaler, here is the paperwork that you have to settle by today. It's just simple accountings; first you..." "Where's your manners?" Ms Chavez interrupted in shock and horror. "And I know perfectly well how to calculate simple numbers. Now if you'll give me a minute..."
"Excuse me, madam, but this is my office. Would you please leave and get back to your work?" "Mrs Shaler, I'm extremely shocked; you don't even know the members of the splendid workforce you have spread before your eyes. For your information, I am new in this company but I’m most certainly not new in the field of consultancy. This is the office G99-07—my new office, so would you please get back to your desk and your work. I believe Ms Zelda would have already given you the accounting sheets," a lady with heavy makeup fired a long list of instructions at Ms Chavez.
"Excuse me?" Ms Chavez could not take in the shock. "No, you're to call me Ms Genieve. Now hurry along," Ms Genieve replied while gesturing to a small clutted desk towards the far side. "And don't forget to clean up your table," Ms Genieve chided as a mother would to her children while pushing Mrs Shaler out of the office almost effortlessly.
fall apart
She sat on her new table. No, she did not understand how to work the accounts; she had always made her accountants do what she thought to be a trivial part of business.
Numbed of emotions, she picked up the large folders and arranged them on the shelf. After all, no matter how far into the corner of the office, she is still in a workplace where reputations have to be maintained.
The office plunged into darkness. Workers became restless with confusion. Ms Genieve's voice rose above the darkness, "Everyone, please calm down. In your desk you should find a torchlight. We are always prepared. Now get back to work by torchlight."
Mrs Shaler didn't move. It was dark now. No one can see her.
The chair broke; it was probably from the storeroom anyway. She crumpled onto the ground, not bothering to pick herself up.
The mask fell out. Her self was revealed. Soft, silently screaming for help... For once, people could tell the story in her face. But who in that room saw?
[1] Casting Crowns. Lifesong. (CD)
Inspired by Stained Glass Masquerade, a song sung by Casting Crowns, which is a brilliant group. I look around me, and I find that many people put up something in place of their real self. It doesn't quite hold though.. let God be the core support of your life!
A finding you cannot refute... God's love.
the masquerade unfolds
She stepped into the freedom tower. Stunning, with deep set eyes and a sharp nose. Her almost flawless face was framed by straight flowing hair. Security stopped her, "Excuse me ma'am..." He was cut short with a pass being flashed right in front of his face. She brushed past him briskly and took the lift up to the 99th floor.
"Good morning, Ms Chavez," voices sounded one after the other as she moved through the large office, almost as if she was stepping on "on" buttons as she moved past every row of office desks, past groggy accountants and secretaries. She replied with no more than a slight lifting up of her side of her lips, her gaze fixed at her workplace.
Sitting herself down on the chair, she opened her laptop and began to look through her proposal once again. What was I thinking! Such a terrible proposal. Lousy workmanship. She thought in anger. She looked out over the sea of dreaming workers spread before her view, the advantage of having an office at the very back with windows like that of a fish-eye lens. All dreaming, none working. Never mind, I'll do it all myself; they are such amateurs in the field of management anyway.
unbeknownst
"Dear, do you want me to bring dinner to you again?" Mr Shaler poked his head through the door. Tap, tap, tap. "I assume that as a yes," his warm voice was followed by a bright stream of light that flooded into the table lamp-lit room. "Oh dear, it's rather dark in here. I don't want you to destroy your beautiful eyes," he switched on the large florescent light. "Turn it off; electricity does not come free," Mrs Shaler spoke.
Mr Shaler did a little twirl with the plate of food before placing it down on the desk. "Turn it off," Mrs Shaler replied without looking up from her work. "O...k," Mr Shaler hesitated. His eyes always told a story, almost everyone but his wife can read them. Now, they told of hurt. Who in that room knew?
"If you need anything else do tell me ok?" Mr Shaler finally said, turning the lights off as he stepped out of the door, closing it quietly behind him.
ground zero
She stepped into the conference room. Eyes turned towards her and she replied with an enchanting smile. "Good morning Mr Oak, fellow consultants!" "Good morning Ms Chavez," the large burly manager smiled. "Ok, let's begin!"
The first consultant began, droning on and on. Amateurs... what a bunch of them. Ms Chavez's eyes carefully judged each and every consultant, noting the flaws so that she may question them about it. Questions... from experience, they show careful thought and leave a good impression upon the client's mind even before one's presentation.
Sure enough, each and every consultant had their mistakes pinpointed by her. Though the manager might initially seem impressed with any one's proposal, he would be quick to change his mind. After all, Ms Chavez thought through everything so carefully.
race
Shawn Shaler was about to open the door to say goodnight to his mother when his father pulled him away.
"Don't be so insensitive son. Can't you hear your mother is getting rather frustrated?" Mr Shaler said in an angry whisper, rather annoyed at his son. Father and son put their ears anxiously to the door. After quite a while of silence, Mr Shaler finally relented, "Maybe we should just at least whisper a goodnight to her, don't you think?"
Sure enough, Mrs Shaler was furiously typing away. Even when her husband and son wished her goodnight in unison, she did not look up, or to say the least straighten up her back that was leaning intently over the screen.
Draft after draft, the proposal never seemed to be good enough. As she finally gave up and prepared to settle down for the night, the perfectionist in her screamed in agony.
No, she had not given up. Restarting her laptop and looking through the proposal, she found herself deleting and retyping. Delete and retype. In this manner she went on throughout most of the morning until 4a.m. when her body, tired from the past few sleepless nights, finally gave in. Hands limp, head on the table, she dozed off.
fatigue
Ms Chavez took a sip of the coffee that she had sneaked into the conference room. Her body rebelled against her as it began to tire, and just in time too, for she was up next.
She barely pulled it off, her conscious self sensed the unsatisfied looked in the manager's eyes. The good impressions, the careful thought and alertness during other people's proposals, all came down to nothing with her own lousy one.
"Alright, thank you consultants. I will discuss with my board of directors and we will inform you of our decision by the end of today," Mr Oak ended with a forced grin.
"Thank you, Mr Oaks," Ms Chavez said before stepping out of the conference, in a hurry to get out of sight before her tears could flow. But they didn't. No, good impressions must be maintained at all times.
crash
There was someone in her office, looking out through the bird's eye windows. Even before she could storm into the office, her accountant, or so she thought, gave her a large stack of papers, saying, "Mrs Shaler, here is the paperwork that you have to settle by today. It's just simple accountings; first you..." "Where's your manners?" Ms Chavez interrupted in shock and horror. "And I know perfectly well how to calculate simple numbers. Now if you'll give me a minute..."
"Excuse me, madam, but this is my office. Would you please leave and get back to your work?" "Mrs Shaler, I'm extremely shocked; you don't even know the members of the splendid workforce you have spread before your eyes. For your information, I am new in this company but I’m most certainly not new in the field of consultancy. This is the office G99-07—my new office, so would you please get back to your desk and your work. I believe Ms Zelda would have already given you the accounting sheets," a lady with heavy makeup fired a long list of instructions at Ms Chavez.
"Excuse me?" Ms Chavez could not take in the shock. "No, you're to call me Ms Genieve. Now hurry along," Ms Genieve replied while gesturing to a small clutted desk towards the far side. "And don't forget to clean up your table," Ms Genieve chided as a mother would to her children while pushing Mrs Shaler out of the office almost effortlessly.
fall apart
She sat on her new table. No, she did not understand how to work the accounts; she had always made her accountants do what she thought to be a trivial part of business.
Numbed of emotions, she picked up the large folders and arranged them on the shelf. After all, no matter how far into the corner of the office, she is still in a workplace where reputations have to be maintained.
The office plunged into darkness. Workers became restless with confusion. Ms Genieve's voice rose above the darkness, "Everyone, please calm down. In your desk you should find a torchlight. We are always prepared. Now get back to work by torchlight."
Mrs Shaler didn't move. It was dark now. No one can see her.
The chair broke; it was probably from the storeroom anyway. She crumpled onto the ground, not bothering to pick herself up.
The mask fell out. Her self was revealed. Soft, silently screaming for help... For once, people could tell the story in her face. But who in that room saw?
[1] Casting Crowns. Lifesong. (CD)
Inspired by Stained Glass Masquerade, a song sung by Casting Crowns, which is a brilliant group. I look around me, and I find that many people put up something in place of their real self. It doesn't quite hold though.. let God be the core support of your life!
A finding you cannot refute... God's love.
