On this abysmally wet and dreary day, I find my umbrella only half works. I’m dripping wet as I lug my books for class, my purse, and cold coffee out across the parking lot. And I’m late for the bus. I can already see it start to pull away as dry, warm riders make it to their buildings on time.
A bus pulling away begins to represent all my longing, all my missed opportunities, all my sorrow over every thing I’ve ever experienced in my whole life.
I’m drooping my head, sagging down with each puddled step when, all of a sudden, I hear the hum of a bus where no bus should still be.
I look up. A bus remains! The driver waits for me. He waits! I charge on, coffee mug high, purse swinging wildly, and feet sloshing (who cares?) in puddles.
A bus waiting where no bus should still be begins to represent all the good things still present in the midst of the rain. It will keep me warm all day.
A nurturing gesture from a stranger on a cold, rainy day makes me feel seen, honored, loved. I ride with a smile on my face. I look around me. We’re all in this together. I can wait for you.