05/01/2026
I'm Gerald, 45, a school bus driver. I've done this route for 15 years, rain or snow, and I've seen it all. But last week… nothing prepared me.
It was freezing. The kind of cold that bites through your bones. Kids bundled up in scarves and mittens piled onto the bus, laughing and shouting to keep warm.
"Get in quick, kids! The weather's killing me! Grrr…" I yelled. Laughter erupted.
"YOU'RE SO SILLY, GERALD!" a tiny voice called.
Little Marcy, five, with bouncing pigtails, demanded, "Ask your mommy to get you a new scarf!"
"Oh, sweetie, I wish my momma was alive. She'd get me a prettier scarf than you have! I'm jealous!" I said, pouting playfully.
Her giggle warmed me more than my jacket ever could.
Driving this bus has been my life. Kids' laughter, little stories, mischief — it keeps me going.
Sure, the pay is low, and my wife nags, "Peanuts, Gerald! How are we supposed to pay the bills?"
But I love this job. There's joy in helping kids, even if it doesn't put food on the table.
After dropping the kids off, I did my routine check. That's when I heard it — a soft sniffle.
One boy hadn't gotten off.
"Hey, buddy, you okay? Why aren't you going to class?" I asked.
He shook his head, hiding his TINY HANDS BEHIND HIS BACK. When he finally revealed them, my HEART NEARLY STOPPED. ⬇️⬇️⬇️
