It is my 62nd birthday today, a Full Moon, lunar eclipse day too. I’m celebrating with a few friends tonight in my new home, FINALLY a home to settle into after two years of being in transition. The house will be empty as we celebrate and I won’t own it until after the closing first thing tomorrow morning – but what an amazing timing and gift this is. I’m feeling quite full and grateful. And stressed and exhausted – there’s nothing quite like moving. I have a broken right hand, so the term “busy as a one-armed paper hanger” really applies here too.

But, I got inspired today to want to tell one of my best little heart stories as a gift from me to my reader. I was reminded of it as I drove to my little grotto/prayer spot and found myself following a school bus, having to stop here and there.

A few years ago, while driving home to the mountain on a mostly untraveled two lane highway a school bus was coming from the other direction. It stopped in the middle of the highway, extending its stop sign to tell oncoming traffic – me – to come to a full stop and wait until the passenger was safely off the bus. I stopped. I waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. As it happened, thankfully I wasn’t in any particular hurry so I just sat there curiously. The driver of the bus shrugged her shoulders at me, indicating sorry, but there wasn’t anything she could do to hurry the process. Finally I began to see what was taking place. As the young man who was leaving came forward to get off, he stopped and hugged every single child on the full bus. They weren’t quick hugs either, it was taking some time. Every student stood to embrace him when it was their turn. Finally he came to the bus driver who hugged him too, and then stepped off the bus beaming and hugged his father who was patiently waiting on the ground at the door. I could see that the young fellow was an autistic child of maybe 12 or 13. As he and his father began their walk to the car, the stop sign folded back in, and the driver smiled to me as if to thank me for my patience as she drove on. I got the sense that this was a daily ritual, and that everyone on the bus happily gave all of the love and time it took to participate.

That story makes me cry every single time I think of it. People are so essentially good. Isn’t it just so sweet?