Some years ago we had a young woman take over the job of crossing guard in front of the middle school. She looked like she was just out of high school. I thought maybe she was a college student making a little extra money. Or maybe she was a young mom trying to make ends meet. Whatever her story, she put her heart and soul into her job every day. In blistering heat to freezing sideways rain, she held that stop sign and her head up high and stopped four lanes of traffic while guiding the kids safely across the street.
Have you ever been told to give your all in whatever job you do? I think this young woman had and took it to heart. I was impressed with her commanding presence. As the school year was coming to a close I gave a card to our young crossing guard to tell her how much I appreciated her good work. She reminded me of someone from my past.
Who is Mrs. Comstock?
I’m glad you asked.
Mrs. Comstock was the crossing guard at Milburn Elementary School, a block and a half from my childhood home, where my mom still resides and where my brother Mike once again calls home.
We walked up to the corner every day where Mrs. Comstock’s forest green Buick with the white vinyl roof was parked.
Mrs. Comstock’s uniform matched her car. To my young boy eyes she looked like a military officer. Mrs. Comstock would hold a white gloved hand high as she blew her whistle. Cars stopped and kids crossed. She greeted us with smiles. She took pride in her work and loved her job.
I love my job. When I was hired twenty four years ago I thought driving a bus would be a fun job to do for a little while. Two dozen years later it’s still a fun job!
Lunchtime Rock Star
Last week I stopped by the local food co-op to get some lunch. As I was filling up my bowl at the salad bar, a man said, “Hey, aren’t you Mr. Bus Driver Man Sir?”
A year or two ago in the same store, the woman in front of me in line recognized me as her kid’s bus driver and paid for my food.
This afternoon I ordered lunch at a south Austin vegan food truck. The man on the other side of the window read my embroidered sweatshirt, “Proud to be a School Bus Driver.”
He asked if I was a school bus driver. I said yes.
He said, “Thank you for your service. Lunch is on the house!”
It feels great to be appreciated.