The School Bus

I never rode a yellow school bus in all my years of school.
I thought of that as I sat behind school buses while I was driving home.
I watched the caution lights blink yellow then red.
I saw the red STOP sign stick out from the side of the bus.

I could see the heads of the children on the bus.
It was obvious that the older children were in the back of the bus.
I watched them gather their things when they needed to get off at their bus stop.
The bus driver had such patience as the child took their time to walk up the aisle.

The children got off the bus and walked towards their houses.
Some would turn back and talk to a friend who could hear them through the window.
I watched one boy who realized he forgot his band instrument.
He ran safely towards the bus as the driver opened the door for him to walk inside.

I could see him go down the aisle and grab something under his seat.
He walked off the bus carrying his instrument case.
Mothers are there waiting for the younger children.
The older children walk home alone or walk in pairs.

I have seen siblings walk to the same house without talking to each other.
I have seen others who are so animated as they tell a story.
All the children look so glad to be off the bus as they head towards home.
I wonder what awaits them there?

Is the aroma of freshly baked brownies wafting through the house?
Is there a snack already waiting for them?
Is anyone home to greet them or hear about their day?
Do they have to rush off to more activities later that evening?

The topic of school buses was just discussed a few weeks ago.
I saw some of my elementary school friends at our 40th high school reunion.
We were reminiscing about never being on a yellow school bus.
Others, who did not go to grade school with us found that hard to believe.

We lived too close to the school to be picked up by a bus.
Our school was less than a mile away from where we lived so there was no bus service for us.
We either walked or we were driven to school.
If it was not raining, we walked.

By the time high school began, walking was out of the question.
There were no yellow school buses to take us to high school.
Instead, we took public transportation.
We walked down to a main road and waited for the bus there.

There was an early bus and a later bus.
We all wanted to take the early bus because the later bus smelled like cigarette smoke.
Those were the days when smoking was allowed on buses and in public places.
People smoked in the back of the bus; we all sat in the front.

We talked about our high school bus stop.
I could not make up its location if I tried!
Our bus stop was, The Frontier Saloon.
We all laughed about how we stood in front of a saloon day after day to catch our bus.

We laughed even harder when we remembered that on rainy days, the owner let us come inside.
He opened the vestibule early in the morning so we could stay dry but still see the bus coming.
Can you imagine a saloon being a bus stop today? One of my friends asked.
We all shook our heads and continued to laugh at the memory.

My friend remembered how nice the owner was to all of us.
He did not have to do that, but he did, she said.
We stood in the vestibule of a saloon as we waited for our bus to high school.
Never in a million years would that happen today.

I first rode a yellow school bus when I went on a preschool field trip with my youngest daughter.
We were going to my favorite Gardens, of which I am now a member.
I finally got to see what it was like to be a passenger on a yellow school bus.
So this is what I was missing? I remember thinking to myself.

As the children were excitedly talking and singing, we heard a noise.
Our bus broke down right there on the highway.
A bus filled with preschoolers needed to pull over on a four lane highway
We had to wait for another yellow school bus to come and pick us up.

It seemed like we waited an incredibly long time until the other bus came to get us.
Once it arrived, the parents got out and formed a human chain.
We linked arms and with our free arm we took hold of each child, one by one.
We never let go until each child was safely on the other bus.

So this is what I was missing? I asked myself again.
My first time on a yellow school bus in my late thirties, and the bus breaks down.
What a tale I could tell: a saloon was my bus stop for my four years of high school.
What a story I could share: my first ride on a yellow school bus ended with it breaking down.

The Lord keeps you from all harm and watches over your life. The Lord keeps watch over you as you come and go, both now and forever. (Psalm 121:7-8)

We all have our stories.
We all have things that sound as if they are untrue.
Yet life has a way of surprising us.
Its unpredictability can be exciting and is often the fodder for great stories and memories.

Despite life’s unpredictability, God is our constant.
God watches over us.
There was protection even in the most unlikely places.
The Lord keeps watch over us as we come and go, both now and forever.

 

2 responses to “The School Bus”

1. I never rode a school bus either! I was just barely too close to the school, even though both elementary and high school were almost a mile away. And I usually walked alone! Can you imagine that today? Not even my overly protective Mom was worried, because it was a safer world (seemed that way). What I remember most was all the school books I had to carry, in the days before backpacks. But God watched over me, as I never had a problem. It was a safer time then, back in the 40’s and 50’s.

   Reply

   • Sue,
     Many of the things we did then would not be considered safe now. Walking alone to school would be one of them. Praise God for watching over you and protecting you.
     Gina

     Reply