A Bus Driver

Our first bus driver, at the hated school and the new school, lived just north of us on the next farm. He had two boys our ages and a little girl to young to be in our gang. (oops, I don't mean "gang" like the word is used today.) His name was Jim. Jim knew how to keep control on his bus. He had a red wire hanging loose under the console where we could all see it. Jim told us he could electricute any kid who didn't behave. But, actually when ever a fight did break out on his bus, Jim would pull over, off the road and put the boys out in the ditch to fight. And, he wouldn't let them stop till they were worn out. Jim never cared how late that made our bus, and it didn't matter if we were on our way to school or going back home. Of course this was in grade school and if the whole bus was tardy, the school couldn't hold it against each student. But when we were going home, and this was when most fights broke out, the parents worried when we didn't show up on time. And most farm kids had parents expecting help with chores. So not everyone appreciated Jims methods. Not because anyone was upset about their son coming home disheveled from a fight. The only problem was with us being late and the parents not being sure if we had been in an accident. I'm sure things would be different today. How many of todays parents would accept letting boys duke it out in a ditch? Our world has changed in so many ways, and I'm having trouble understanding a lot of it. Like spanking kids. Or letting them run all over an elder, verbally or physically. Don't get me started.....!!

Getting to school late one morning had nothing to do with the kids on the bus. We were on the short stretch of main highway on the way to that hated school, when we saw a toddler out in the cold in nothing but a diaper, walking along the highway. We weren't familiar with the families who lived in that area. Jim stopped the bus and picked up the child and then stopped at the nearest house. But, they didn't know the child. We drove to the next house, and again it wasn't his home. The nearest house behind us was more that a mile back. So Jim went on ahead to a house about a half mile down the road. Bingo, this time we were able to find his Mother. He had gone quite far for a little fellow. It reminded me of the time S was brought home by the partrolman. Living on a busy highway put this run-a-way in a lot more danger then S had been in. And when Jim took him to the door, his Mom was surprised. She hadn't even know he was gone. Jim was the kind who said what he thought and everyone on the bus was quiet while we listened to him tell that Mother just what he thought. After that, I was no longer afraid of his red wire, or that this man could electricute me.

Jim had been my bus driver several years, and we had played with his sons and been at his house, when I was feeling sad one day. I don't remember why, but I must have been pretty obvious. Jim was trying to cheer me up and I remember him telling me that whatever was bothering me couldn't be too bad, because I was, "the prettiest girl on Tobias Road." I'd never been told I was pretty before and I was so very excited. When I got home, I ran straight to Mom and told her, "Jim said I was the prettiest girl on Tobias Road." I will remember forever my Mothers response. With her hands on her hips, she told me. "LeeAnn, you are the ONLY girl on Tobias Road." I was crushed. Then Mom gave me a hug and sat me down and gave me the lecture about learning to be pretty on the inside. Outside "pretty" doesn't mean a thing and never lasts anyway and I'd better work on personality because I'd never be a "real beauty". I'm sure it was a good lesson, but I still thought I'd rather be the prettiest girl anywhere. She taught me a little poem and I can still say it almost 50 years later.

As a beauty, I am not a star.
There are others more handsome by far.
But my face, I don't mind it,
for I am behind it.
It's the people in front that I jar.
(Sorry, I can't name the Author)

Mom meant that as humorous and did assure me that I looked fine. Not ugly or even plain, just a nice average ok. I know now that she didn't want me to take looks seriously or ever be full of myself. I just still feel the lesson either came at the wrong time or was, maybe a bit harsh. I have had some compliments since, but my doubt leads me to wonder why they are saying it. What's the catch. Is someone saying something nice because they want something. Is there a hidden double meaning behind the words. I was in my 30's when I started hearing the word "pretty" more often. My conclusion wasn't that I'd become prettier. I decided that men had become more comfortable or relaxed about saying it. This is what still makes the most sense to me. I've never felt really good about myself and all my doubts take me right back to the day I went from being the prettiest girl on Tobias Road to being the ONLY girl on Tobias Road.

Please let me strongly advise against lessons of this kind. Build children up, but don't ever put them down to teach any lesson. Tell them about inner beauty and building a likable personality, but please be aware of how you do it. The lessons that hurt, last a lifetime.

But when they need it, one spank on the bottom is not a bad thing. Hugs and Love heal when they know they deserved it. Words can never be taken back.