Bus Stop People

Driving through town the other day, I was reminded of my morning commute several years ago. I worked at a bank 8 miles from my home down Main Street. Every morning at the same time, I would travel this long road and see all of the normal sights.

A CVS or Walgreens on every corner (well, it seems like it), coffee and donut shops, car dealerships, fast food fare, major food chains, furniture showcases, video stores, car salvage/junkyard, churches, synagogues, a few pawn shops and an adult book store thrown in. the mix.

I would pass some of the same drivers every morning watching as they ate the same McDonalds or Dunkin Donuts trying hard not to get grease or jelly down the front of their shirts. Lots of Starbucks or Tim Horton coffees. Others are talking, talking, talking on cells. Some primping while combing hair or putting on lipstick. Others are bobbing heads and tapping fingers to a favorite song on CD or radio.

Big cars, small cars, old cars, new cars, slow cars (MOVE OVER!!), fast cars (WATCH OUT!!)….red, yellow, green, white, black and some multicolored cars…you know the ones with the home painting jobs…the trunk is one color, the passenger side door another, with a feeble attempt of shooting flames on the hood.

Those on bicycles weaved in and out of traffic trying to avoid the nuts that did not see them (they were busy wiping the jelly off their shirts) and the toxic fumes that belched from tail pipes.

There are bus stops sprinkled all along the way. I often saw the same people at the same bus stops. Since most bus stops are at lights with crosswalks, I would sit at a light and watch the multitude of people waiting for the bus.

I felt a small connection with the ones I saw on a regular basis…some would acknowledge me with a slight nod of their head when I smiled at them.

A young mother with a crying baby in a stroller, with a handbag, diaper bag, and talking on a cell phone. In the most frigid of weather she would have her baby so tightly wrapped you felt like you were looking at a pile of freshly laundered clothes with two little eyes peeking out. In the pelting rains of spring and fall she would have a beat up old umbrella trying to keep it all dry while several men stood under the shelter, not offering to trade places with her.

An old woman with a shopping cart filled with plastic bags, cans, bottles, stuffed animals, sticks, and whatnot. Unkempt grey hair sticking out from a knit cap in the cold and a ball cap when it was warm. Tattered clothing, with mismatched shoes and always wearing men’s socks. She would sometimes be sitting quietly picking her nails. Other times she would be circling the bus shelter (with her cart) and talking to herself. I do not know if she ever got on the bus.

A middle-aged man, with a longish grey beard, and gloves with no fingers, pacing with a gait that was slow and deliberate as if he were afraid of falling, always drinking something out of a paper bag at 7:30AM.

Teenage boys with pants that they had to hold on to while walking, and big coats with black hose like caps tightly tied around their heads…were totally immersed in music or that little ear bug thingy that connects to cell phone.

Some students with book bags that looked like over sized parachutes just waiting for someone to pull the rip cord. Businessmen and women with scuffed shoes, torn hems, too short pants with no crease and old beat up briefcases. Elderly couples huddled together as if to cover and protect… and some homeless looking souls sound asleep on the bench or under a newspaper behind the shelter.

People. Different shapes, different colors, different nationalities, different ages and all had different places to go….and it seemed that no one talked to one another at the bus stops….not unless they were together. People huddled together (making sure they did not touch or brush up against one another), straining their necks to see if their bus was in sight.

The one thing I did notice…the one thing they all had in common ….they all looked very tired and worn…like the old tilting wooden poles that held the sagging wires that laced the morning sky all along the road. Worn down by whatever life had thrown their way. So tired looking and acting before 8:00 AM each morning.

As I write this, I am reminded of part of the poem on the Statute of Liberty...

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

The bus stop people are our local huddled masses that are lost and yearning for something that will give them hope. Gasping for the clean air of peace. Our wretched rejects of society. Buffeted and pounded by life’s smashing waves…..they have been tossed to and fro and landing on the hard, dry cracked sand of daily living. They do not know what they need.

They do not know they need a Savior.

My heart was so moved so many mornings. Often, I would pull away from a light with tears streaming down my face. I would pray for them and ask God to bless them in some way, big or small that moment, that day…for life.

These are the people we need to reach. If we reach out to the lost and suffering with love, grace and dignity, the pews of every church on every street corner will be filled to the brim.

I am reminded of another saying by my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ…

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."(Mat11:28-30)

Christ is the lamp, and He is the golden door…He is the rest the bus stop people so desperately need.