With a groan, I stepped outside into the dark and chilly morning to let my dog, Phineas, do his business. It was 5:30am and I went to bed too late to be up this early. I was cranky.
The school bus came down the street and stopped in front of the neighbor’s house across the street. One of their sons has cerebral palsy, and his bus arrives before the sun comes up to take him to school. He’s always at the door waiting, fully dressed and ready to go, to get on the bus as soon as it arrives. He walks with great difficulty, on his own and always with a smile.
I’m out here groaning about being tired and here’s this kid who’s raring to go despite his challenges. I went inside and took a long, hard look in the mirror. I realized I’d just been given my hundred-foot journey in complete silence and under the cover of darkness, the lesson right across the street that taught me everything I needed to know to do everything I want to do. “Stop whining and just do it. You’re one of the lucky ones,” I thought to myself.
Now the school bus is my alarm clock. When I hear its come to a stop at the neighbor’s house, I swing my legs around and let my feet hit the floor. It’s time to get started.