Each year the legend of Dave the bus driver only grows.
A couple years back, he was unknown to me. My older two children got in line for the big yellow school bus to take them to middle school; it arrived, and off they went. My gregarious daughter would sometimes mention him by name and that he was great, and that was it. I was just thankful that they were back at school after a year and a half online.
Things took a turn the following year, however, when the bus arrived but Dave did not. To start with, the bus was always late. Then, the bus driver was always stressed and annoyed. Finally, the kids began to dread taking the bus.
I had never expected them to enjoy the bus in the first place. It’s a mostly unsupervised opportunity for chaos in the back rows. But it made me wonder why they ever had liked it at all. So I asked my middle child why she missed having Dave as her bus driver. Her answer was prompt, “He’s just great.” When pressed she added, “He knows every kid by name.”
There are over 15 kids at our bus stop alone. My next question was natural, “Why isn’t Dave here this year?” She said, “Oh, he has to finish his cancer treatments, then he’ll be back.”
His legend only grew in my mind.
Sure enough, Dave came back later that year. From my front porch I heard my daughter cheerily greet him, “Hi Dave!” His booming voice responded, “And how are we today, Emma?” It had been at least six months since he had last picked them up. Indeed, he remembered them by name.
This year, I added my youngest to the middle school bus pick up line. The day before the veteran 7th and 8th graders joined them, a large group of 6th graders gathered near my door and up rolled the big yellow school bus. These were his new charges.
“Are we all ready for our first day of school?” came the smiling question from the driver’s seat. The kids smiled back and began to pile in. My husband called out a thank you and he responded, “It is my sincere privilege!”
And my eyes well up at the thought of it. You see I have yet to mention Dave’s white flowing hair, which makes it feels like a scene out of Narnia. After a long winter without any Christmas, Father Christmas literally drives down my street in disguise and carts my kids off to school.
I am sure that every day on the bus is not great. I know kids can be worried, scared, grumpy, mean, hiding, shy, boisterous, and loud. But, like my daughter said, Dave is great.
And it helps me to know, as I send them out into the world each day, that he is the one who is driving them.