I'm driving to work, and I pull up beside a yellow school bus. The children inside wave and giggle. I motion back with an exaggerated wave.
I notice one cute little girl in the backseat. Her ponytail bobs and her head tilts back as she laughs. I look again. It's my own daughter on her way to a field trip at the marsh. She doesn't know that I can see her. I watch her for a few seconds and then have to exit. As I pull away from that school bus, something rises up in my heart. It's the strangest and deepest kind of joy.
I can't explain it other than to say watching a group of laughing school children is good for the soul.
I'm so happy for the warmth and safety of a little yellow school bus that takes children to a marsh. I'm so happy for my daughter as she rides on that bus, laughing with all her friends. God bless that bus. God bless that teacher. God bless the whole elementary school, this whole great state of Pennsylvania, and the whole wide world for that matter.
For at least a few minutes, something aligns. Everything, at least right here, is just as it should be.
Journal: Can you remember when everything felt "just right" for a moment?