THE BUS DRIVER
The snow fell fast and thick that night,
The windshield wipers did no good,
The heater was not working right,
And did not warm the way it should.
The driver could not see too well,
The bus veered from side to side,
The road was slick; black ice had formed,
A dangerous night to drive.
The wind was strong; it blew the bus,
It was hard to hold the road,
The temperature had dropped a lot,
And the passengers were cold.
The driver, tense - uncomfortable,
He did not like this night,
For the last hundred miles or so,
No other vehicles in sight.
Well, no one would be fool enough
To be out on a night like this,
If it weren't his job, he wouldn't be,
It was not worth the risk.
But now one last stop - the driver thought
Then he would be back home,
A hot toddy and a roaring fire,
Would surely warm his bones.
He loosed his grip upon the wheel,
And for a second, just relaxed,
Then his headlights caught a frightened deer,
Directly in his path!
His first reaction ... hit the brakes,
The worst thing he could do,
The bus careened and swerved and turned,
And near rolled over, too!
It tilted, swaying back and forth,
It acted crazy-like,
Some dozing passengers awoke,
Cried out and sat up-right!
The driver grabbed the steering wheel,
Just like a drowning man would,
He couldn't let go! He wouldn't let go!
He just steered the best he could.
The bus lurched to a sudden stop!
He hit his head upon the wheel!
His glasses flew off! He blacked out!
The whole scene seemed surreal.
Out for a second; then he came to,
And turned to the folks on the bus,
"Are you okay? Is anyone hurt?"
They seemed as in shock and were hushed.
Then they breathed huge sighs of relief,
After all, they had had quite a scare,
But the bus was stopped, and they were safe,
All were alive; no worse for the wear.
Next cheers rang out throughout the bus,
From every soul aboard.
The driver smiled and 'neath his breath,
Said, "Thank you! Thank you, Lord!"
Then he appraised the situation,
The bus was stuck in deep snow,
He stepped on the gas and prayed again,
And the engine began to go.
Not wishing to seem too eager,
He methodically gathered his wits,
Then, ever so slowly, backed-up the bus,
Inching it out of the ditch.
Haltingly, they crept down the road,
The blinding snow still swirled around,
Until at last, they got through the pass,
And spotted the lights of the town.
The driver pulled into the terminal,
The passengers discharged with a laugh,
Each one shaking the hand of the driver,
Or heartily patting his back.
The manager hailed the driver,
And grabbed both of his hands with zest,
"Son, I'm amazed that you made it,
God knows you surely were blest."
"Every mile along your route,
Was reported closed this night,
And two bridges had collapsed,
Weighed down by the snow and ice."
"This blizzard, the worst in fifty years,
Frozen, all lakes and ponds,
The temperature below zero,
And power lines were down."
The tired driver shook his head,
As he reached for the 'sign-in' sheet,
But he couldn't see which line to sign,
There were no glasses on his cheek.
In fact, he could barely see at all,
Which jolted him a bit,
Then he recalled his glasses fell off,
When they went into the ditch.
No way could he have seen to drive,
That beleaguered bus back home,
And how he drove it in that night,
No one will ever know.
The driver shook his head again,
Not sure how to reply,
"Sir, an angel drove us in,
God knows ... it was not I."
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright January 2005 ~ 2008