Friday, 26 November 2010

The Number 37 Bus.

I had to catch the number 37 bus today.
                         I do not usually travel on buses ,but as there is a rather ominous squeak underneath my car, and an appointment with the dentist which could not be missed ,I thought I would throw caution to the wind, and try public transport.
I soon realised that the 37,has a community all of its own.Along the way, each oncoming passenger was greeted by those already on .A seat prepared for old  Harry recovering from a dislocated shoulder,who recounted mournfully the hours he spent awaiting the paramedics ,and the consequent two days in hospital.The young mother,baby strapped to her in some papoose like contraption ,the blind woman with the guide dog,docile and faithful at her feet.The woman in the seat behind me, preparing for a visit from her daughter who lives in New Zealand ,and who has first hand knowledge of the awful explosions at the mine,and its tragic outcome.
                        Obviously they all use the 37 frequently.Maybe daily,and the thought struck me that I, the silent one, had shared, however briefly,in their lives in that one moment in time.That also, I was unlikely ever to do so again.I realised too, that each one, before they were born, was an idea in God's mind,that the great Creator had his own special name for them, and in some ways because of that ,we shared a common bond.I wondered about their beliefs.I wondered about their faith,or maybe their lack of it.Did they ever ponder,as I do often ,about the purpose of their lives?Do they ever worry about not becoming the person God wants, the  person he had planned?.Was there someone on that bus wounded by life,whose heart aches with loneliness and the pain of loss.Or was there perhaps,a living, breathing, saint,whose humble goodness is known only to the one who made them.                    
                       I will never know of course.There is nothing I can do to help Harry and his shoulder,no aid I can offer  to the blind lady,nor can I watch over the mother and her baby.
                       But I can remember them at the end of my day.I guess I can ask the good Lord to bless them ,He will see them in my heart,no names needed.....
God bless all then on the 37 bus.


epsilon said...

Lovely style - I've read all three:)

I'm sure you smiled at them, on the number 37. And that smile will have remained with them. Thank you and God Bless.

I appreciate the faithful follower comment. It's interesting because I've been trying to unfollow some blogs (not yours) and don't seem to be able to! - as part of my effort to be simple, and redirect my efforts towards being a Catholic rather than blogging about it...

A Catholic Comes Home said...

Thanks Epsilon.Appreciate your comment.I think it helps to blog,and I know that blogs like yours have helped me on this long painful road towards home.