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The Bus Driver

Lynn was a wise man.  He sat behind the gigantic wheel of the bus every day, rain or snow, sun or hail.  He was as faithful and loyal a man as we could ever ask for, starting at the 7th grade and carrying us all the way through the years.  I sat in the front row of the bus every single day to talk with Lynn, all the way up until I changed schools.

Lynn would talk about things with us.  He understood when girls had boy trouble, when boys had girl trouble, and when any of us needed to complain about parents or teachers.  He would offer advice by way of telling us a story we could relate to.  Often kids would take turns sitting in the front row in order to talk with Lynn. He loved us all dearly, as though we were his own children.  He took care of us. 

Sometimes the snow was deep and the way up the mountain was slow.  The bus would come dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, but each of us trusted Lynn to keep the bus on the road.  He never failed us.  He somehow managed to keep us all going.  On those days it would be such stress for him that he would get quiet and not say a word to us.  Minutes would pass without a sound.  We could see the tension and pressure in his face.  But we were children and all we could do was go where Lynn took us.  He was the one in charge.  He controlled the path and road ahead.

During the construction, the road was rough and the way was hard.  He tried to guide us around the potholes, but once in a while he would catch one.  The kids sitting the farthest away from him would feel it the worst - often a bone crunching bounce, nearly tossing them from their seats.  Those of us closest to Lynn barely felt it at all.

He would go slowly when he needed to, unconcerned with the rate of traffic.  He knew what needed to be done and when it needed doing, so we trusted him completely.  He would slow down around every turn, lest us kids slide right out of our vinyl seats and straight into the aisles.

He would speed up when it was safe to.  Sometimes he would speed up to make it up a hill.... we would start out at a race track speed to get a good start, and sometimes things moved incredibly slow by the time we got to the top of the hill.

Sometimes the road was smooth and the way was easy.  We hardly felt a bump.  Those days were always good days, but the ride wasn't nearly as interesting.

Sometimes I would close my eyes and just trust Lynn to make sure I made it to my destination... and he always made sure I did.



Though this story was true and based on an actual man named Lynn, it's also an incredible analogy of life itself, and the bus driver we must all (all 147 passengers) depend on in order to get to where we are going.  Trust in that bus driver... because we mere mortals don't know how to drive that thing to where it needs to go.  We don't always know the way.  We don't know where the potholes are to go around them.  We don't know how slick the road ahead might turn out to be and how much strength and concentration it will take to make it through the ice and snow.  We don't know every stop along the way.  Only the bus driver has all the answers...

Now... knowing this analogy, read the story one more time...














1 comment:

  1. a beautiful analogy. true, and poignant in every detail. thank you for sharing it.

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