Blog Your Blessings: All That Caring Going On
Early this morning as I was heading out on a quick mission to pick up my handbag from the house where I had left it last night after three-plus hours of a tedious meeting, I found myself slowed to a near-stop over and over again by parents, kids, and school buses.
Not good. But there it was and I couldn't change it, so I learned to love it.
First: stuck behind a neighbor and her father as she student-drove the family's Mazda sedan as if it were a basket of eggs. If we had gone any slower, we would have been rolling backwards, so I had ample time to consider them in the front seat: the young girl handling the car with text-book correctness and her father slouched in passenger seat. Yes: slouched. How cool is that?
Next: no fewer than three school buses scooping up near catatonic high schoolers before the sun had even slipped above the ridge line. We moved from driveway to driveway for all of these up and coming adults. Surely they must feel safe, valued, cared for. What other message can be derived from this curbside service? How good, even if they don't get it, that we treat them so well.
And then: the dads putting their littlest of the little students of Woodbury on the bus. Those last hugs, waves, cranings of the neck to see that the kids were safe, the thumbs up when they were on their way--and the lingering last look before these men returned to their houses to get ready for work.
Finally: the most excellent of bus drivers who waved me on after my good, healthy dose of waiting and watching so that I could get home again to my own good girl and get her ready for school.
Ironically, I would take her in myself because the bus takes so darn long to get up the hill. Is it any wonder, with all that caring going on?