He was just a boy on the bus, calling out to people to get on board. His eyes counted the empty seats and his voice called out for people to fill them up. I watched as he checked to see all the seats were taken and then he called out to the driver to start the bus. The trip to the town began and he came around collecting the fares - little hands gripping the bills and the coins inspecting the bills carefully and returning changes. He did it with ease, after all he was used to it.
I couldn't but help think about this little boy as I watched him from my seat. Perhaps another of his age would have been delighted to go on such a ride. Another would have loved the sights of the "world" passing by but this boy kept his eyes on his little hands with the fares and the change. What might have been a delight to another was to him a routine. He will step down not because he has reached his destination but a stop to let people down and take in others.
The youngest on board, he was the conductor on the bus directing people to their seats, collecting the fare, returning change and yet to me he was just a boy on the bus, a boy not so much in the "joy" of the ride but on a "job" to keep.
I couldn't but help think about this little boy as I watched him from my seat. Perhaps another of his age would have been delighted to go on such a ride. Another would have loved the sights of the "world" passing by but this boy kept his eyes on his little hands with the fares and the change. What might have been a delight to another was to him a routine. He will step down not because he has reached his destination but a stop to let people down and take in others.
The youngest on board, he was the conductor on the bus directing people to their seats, collecting the fare, returning change and yet to me he was just a boy on the bus, a boy not so much in the "joy" of the ride but on a "job" to keep.
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