BUS RIDE TO PHILLY

Sam lit the last cigarette in his pack while he waited for the bus. “When I get to Philly, I’ll get a job and get on with my life,” he thought to himself. A late winter wind blew down 15th Street as he pulled his coat tighter. “Where is that bus?” he muttered to himself. As if on cue, the bus turned the corner and pulled into the bus bay at the Greyhound station. Sam jumped aboard and headed to the back of the bus and tossed his coat over the adjacent seat, hoping to ward off any other passenger.

But the bus began to fill and was soon packed. Just as the door was about to close, an old man hobbled aboard and asked Sam if the seat next to him was taken. Sam grunted, grabbed his coat, and the old man sat down. The man turned and asked Sam why he was going to Philadelphia. “I’m going to get a job, get a new start in a new town and get my life in order,” Sam replied. “Great,” the old man said and asked if Sam needed any help. “Help?” Sam snapped. “I’ve always done it all myself,” Sam continued, “and I will continue to do so until I die, thank you very much.”

The old man sighed. “Well, that’s mighty fine, son, but did you ever think that we all need some kind of help sometime, somewhere and from somebody?” Sam smirked. “Where do you get off with this stuff about needing help? Look at you. Anybody ever help you? We’re riding on a flea-ridden bus to Philly with a bunch of low-lifes.”

The old man turned, faced Sam squarely and looked into his young eyes. “Son, all of us need help. Why you’re just a pup, and if you just ask, help will come to you.”

“Ah, don’t tell me you’re one of those holy rollers or something,” Sam said, “all full of yourself and with all the answers to life’s woes.”

The old man shook his head. “No. I don’t pretend to have all the answers. Otherwise, I might be riding in one of those big SUVs. But I do know that if you turn your problems over to the Lord, you can free yourself from having to do it all yourself. It will help lighten your load. Ain’t nobody who can do it all themselves.”

“I can,” Sam groused. As the bus pulled into the Philadlephia station, Sam followed the old man down the aisle and watched him walk off into the streets of the town without so much as a wave or goodbye. “I’m sort of going to miss the guy,” Sam thought to himself. “I wonder if there’s any merit in what he says?” Sam grabbed his bag and walked down the street looking in shop windows.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, in one of the shop windows was a sign. There was a help wanted sign in a window. “Well,” thought Sam, “I’m going to like this town already.”

— Scott Tilley

Courtesy of The Church of the Good Shepherd United Methodist