This morning as I made my normal 30 minute commute into downtown, everyone hit their breaks and traffic stopped. The typical thoughts of most commuters started to invade my mind. Great, I’m going to be late for my meeting. Is there an accident? My thoughts quickly turned into frustration.
As my car idled in the same spot for five minutes and my frustration grew, I started to notice all the people walking along the sidewalks. I was delayed on a highly traveled bus route. Normally traffic is moving, so I never really noticed all of the people who rely on public transportation.
In the darkness of the minutes before dawn, I saw a young man race across a parking lot. He turned onto the sidewalk, running as if his life depended on it. Then I saw the bus stopped a football field length ahead of him. I realized, he needed to get on that bus. Perhaps he had an important meeting at work. Maybe his boss had given him a warning about being late. Whatever the reason, he ran with great determination; I began to root for him.
Moments later, his pace slowed and then he stopped on the sidewalk. I saw the taillights of the bus fading into the darkness. He didn’t make it. His head dropped in defeat as he slowly walked toward the bus stop. My heart went out to him.
The blare from the car’s horn behind me broke the trance I held on the young man. I was thinking how fortunate I am to have a car and to be stuck in traffic. Again, the horn impatiently blasted as traffic was moving again, but not for the young man. He had taken a seat at the bus stop and watched the cars pass by him.