I’ve never been an early riser.

For that matter, I’m never really late to bed.

Does that mean I’m lazy?

Ever since we moved our electrical business to town, I’ve pulled my creaky bones out of bed a fair bit earlier than I am wont to.

The boys engineered this idea. 

They said we should all get to the office at 7:30, hang around, make a coffee or an espresso, talk about the day and jobs ahead, and then come 8 everyone could move in their several directions.

(Which most likely is the toilet, after all the heavy cup-a-joe intake.)

I admit, I like the routine.

Most times I sit back in my office, listening in on the banter and all going on.

Occasionally, I don’t sit as easy, because trouble is brewing, and a solution needs to be arrived at.

But there is something else that I’m quite sure pulls it all together for me.

It’s the drive to town.

It’s a different crowd that drives to work at 7:30 in the morning.

I saw that the first day I drove the road at that time.

Folks aren’t so rushed; almost everyone is going at their own pace, and I think it’s because very few of us need to actually clock in until 8.

For years, I drove to work around the 7:57 time.  Way too close to cut it, and that always showed up in the way I drove and met people.

I wonder how many folks had stars in their windshields after I passed them?

I know I got a few pitted windshields myself; I suppose in return for the way I drove during those years.

On one of those early morning drives, I noticed two things, that almost stunned me.

I put it off as a one-time deal, but it isn’t.  It’s been happening right along, every morning there is school.

I saw a little girl, I think?  It’s too dark to tell, walking out to the school bus.

And I saw her mother walking out there with her.

I said to myself it must be a one-time thing and that when the weather gets really cold, she won’t do it anymore.

But I was wrong. 

Every morning, cold weather or not, Mom and the little girl walk out, loaded down with school paraphilia.

And I see that mom walks close beside her little charge to the bus and then makes sure her little precious is safely loaded on that big school bus. 

And once she is safely on board, I see Mom run back to the house, because she didn’t grab her coat. 

Seeing her dedication makes me realize I didn’t always have the same level of care and commitment for my children.   

The second is the school bus driver.

Admittedly, this year has been a bad one for the county to try to keep our roads in shape.

There are some real trouble spots that could turn an out-of-towner back in the direction from which they came in a lick of a second.

But those of us home folks know about those spots, and we know how to get past them, or through them, without too much commotion.

The school bus driver knows about those spots also.

Even though he has a lot more miles to cover and a lot more bad spots in the road to remember than the rest of us.

I see him, each morning, slowly pull out of the driveway from the house where Mom walks out to his bus with her daughter,

I see him pull completely over to the wrong side of the road for a while, taking it slow, and then I see him angle back, at just the right place so that the big bus doesn’t hit too many washboards, to the other side of the road.

It takes him a few more slow shifts from this side to the other side of the road, because it seems that he also knows his cargo isn’t of your regular type, before he reaches the black top and speeds up.

I have a lot of respect for that school bus driver.

Probably about the same as I do for the mom, who is warming herself back up inside.

Both of them seem to have their priorities right; both know what is valuable and aren’t above taking the extra pains to make sure everyone and everything is okay.

It’s worth the 7:30 a.m. transit in this small community.