"The Bus Ride"
A Short Story, by Elizabeth Gilbert
The Bus Ride
A Short Story
by Elizabeth Gilbert
Some years ago, a friend told me she was stuck on a crosstown bus in New York City during the holidays at rush hour. Traffic was barely moving. The bus was filled with cold, tired people who were deeply irritated with one another and with the world in general.
Two men barked at each other about a shove that might or might not have been entirely intentional. A pregnant woman got on, and nobody offered her a seat. Rage was in the air, but no mercy could be found on this bus.
Then just as the bus approached Seventh Avenue, the driver got on the intercom.
"Folks," he said, "I know you’ve had a rough day and you’re frustrated and anxious to be home. I can’t do anything about the weather or the traffic, but I’ll tell you what I can do.
As each of you gets off the bus, I’ll reach out my hand. When you walk by, drop your troubles in the palm of my hand, okay? Don’t take your problems home to your families tonight, just leave them with me.
My route ends right near the Hudson River, and when I drive by there later, I’ll open the window and throw all your troubles in the river."
It was like a spell or a layer of heaviness lifted. Everyone burst out laughing. Faces gleamed with surprised delight. People who had been pretending for the past hour not to notice each other’s existence were suddenly grinning at each other asking, “Is this guy serious?”
Oh, he was serious.
At the next stop, as promised, the driver reached out his hand, palm up, and waited. One by one, all the exiting commuters placed their hand just above his and pretended to drop something into his palm. Some laughed as they did it, some teared up, but everyone did it.
The driver repeated the same lovely ritual at the next stop, too. And the next. All the way to the river.
“No matter who you are, or where you are, or how boring or tough your situation may seem, we can brighten our world. In fact, I believe this is the only way the world will ever be brightened: by one act of kindness at a time … all the way to the river.”
--- Elizabeth Gilbert
Poet/Writer/Author of 5 books.
Quora Top Writer 2018.
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If all transit workers were like that, bus and subway rides might be more pleasant.
My Minnesota Comment.
The Bus Ride
by Elizabeth Gilbert
Thank you, Elizabeth. This story reminded me of my experiences in Minnesota in 1968-2006-2016.
1968: In St Paul for the first time. I was visiting a girl I had been writing to for four years. I loved St Paul, and she lived in the city.
2006: I was back again in Minnesota to visit her (it's a long story), and she had moved out to the suburbs. I returned to St Paul to retrace my steps from the past, but this time, I needed to take a bus to a Hub where they would pick me up.
On the second trip, I took the bus to the Hub and waited until the family picked me up. No problem at all.
In 2016, I visited the lady again and went back to St Paul. I took the bus into the city in the morning and went through the Hub. In the afternoon, I needed the bus to the Hub and a second bus to the suburbs. This time it I was told that black American gangs and Somali youth used it as a battleground. The black American bus driver refused to let me off because I was white. This great man went off route to get me to the next safe stop.