So I'd pretty much promised myself that I was not going to do the seemingly obligatory first-day-of-school post, most of which have made me want to go hurl.
But when my son got on the bus this morning for the first time, walking up those steps as if it were the most natural thing in the world, not really knowing, entirely, how he'd get to his classroom or find his teacher or get back on the right bus to get home or get off at the right bus stop to find me ... I was struck by his innocent trust, and by his courage.
Our elementary school is right up the road from us. The only reason he gets on the bus in the first place is that there is no sidewalk on some very busy stretches of local highway, and there's a wacky traffic circle between our house and there. And of course the great thing about being home is that if he needs me, I'm a stone's throw away.
But still: he'd never gotten on a school bus before. Never ridden alone before. Never navigated his school by himself. He put complete trust in the bus driver, and in the people who would help him to get off the bus, get to his classroom, get him back on the bus, and get him home.
I couldn't help but wonder, watching him with pride, when we lose that innocent trust, that ability to put our lives in the hands of strangers without question or fear. And I couldn't help but wish that it came more easily.
When was the last time you put your life in the hands of a stranger? Did you find it difficult to do so?