"I Think I'll Pass"

She is one of my quieter, more reliable crossing guards. She’s been at one of the loneliest posts for weeks. Five days ago she asked for a position closer to the school. I was happy to give her the spot.

Now, when I remind her that she gets a new, more popular position, she says, “I think I’ll pass.”

“Hey,” I encourage her, “you deserve the new position as much as anyone.”

“I know,” she says thoughtfully, “It’s just that every morning a little girl rides by this spot and I wave at her. Yesterday, she said she likes seeing me first every day. So, I think I’ll stay here for awhile.”

As she’s talking a station wagon pulls up to the stop sign. Up pops a little black-haired face. The eyes barely clear the window sill, but you can see they’re smiling.

A Case for Backpacks

You can hear the tuba all the way down the hall. It’s the first day of band and this new band member is proud as punch of his new, BIG instrument. He and his younger brother are headed home, lugging the tuba, the tuba case, and two backpacks.

It’s a struggle, many bulky, heavy things to manage for two little boys. Crossing the street, the two boys stop to readjust the load. The music teacher watches with amusement as the older brother rests the tuba carefully on his tennis shoe to keep from scratching it. Then he tells little brother to open the tuba case. In go the backpacks!

Off they go, big brother proudly oompahing, little brother lugging a beast of a tuba case.