My poppa, the bus driver

“…at his last stop everybody gets off before he drives the bus over the bridge [back into the city] where the bus is parked overnight.

As he’s pulling the bus up to the last stop, he tells the people on the bus to give him their problems. He tells them he knows that life is difficult and many of them are taking home from a day of work all kinds of burdens and anxiety and conflict – so why not leave all that with him so they don’t take it home to the people they love the most?

He tells them that he’ll take their burdens and drive them across the bridge so that they don’t have to carry them around anymore” (footnote #1).

My grandpa (poppa) was a hard-working and dedicated man who loved well. He worked as a pastor all of his life. And for many years he also drove a bus. He woke up and started his morning by transporting people around the city. I never knew much of this work as he preferred the earliest shift so he could be home and available for his kids and grandkids and the church family. He collected buses, but I never asked why he had such an interest in, what seemed to me, an insignificant thing. I mean, what could possibly make a bus so special?

Then I read this story.

And it could have been written about my poppa. Because that’s the kind of man he was.


FOOTNOTE:

#1 – The Bus Route Story is from Rob Bell’s latest book “How To Be Here”

 

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