Always say Thank You

I was thinking of the importance of saying “Thank You.” When boarding Line 14 the other morning as I swiped my card, without thinking, I told the driver “thank you.”
He very unpretentiously said, “you’re welcomed.” Then I thought I wonder how many people board the bus and tell the driver thank you as they get on. Many say thank you when they get off, which is a very nice gesture I feel. I see having the opportunity for transportation as a privilege, so a thank you would be fitting. Not sure what the driver thought I was thanking him for.

What brought this on was I was wanting to say  “thank you”  to someone who has been kind and contributed to my life the last several months.  

Last week, I was getting on Line 2 after going to the grocery and walking back to a bus stop at an obscure place. ( I like to use them sometimes... keeps the drivers on their toes you know.)
As I boarded and I swiped my card I heard someone say, “It didn’t talk to you that time.”
I looked up. There was the director of transit on the bus smiling at me. Not often do you get to see the director of the whole bus operation on the bus as your personal hostess for the bus ride.  Her comment took me back several months to a bus incident I had.

The bus system had just added a swipe system on the bus so you when you get a pass it has a magnetic stripe on it so you can swipe it. The new swipe machines were having some bad-hair days at first, and one Saturday after using the bus several times that day, the swipe system was not at its best behavior. It would say, “Card is not valid”  in a female, monotone voice when it didn’t recognize the code on it.

Since my card came up “invalid” several times in one day,  that night I felt it was time to share this with Transit.  On their website comment page, I told them about my frustration with the swipe system not working right.  I was being insulted by being told “I was invalid.”  (I may not have been in one of my best self worth days as I was taking this rather personally.) To my surprise Monday I got an email from the director of transit thanking me for sharing the problem I was having with the swipe machine. It was a new system and they were still working out some of the bugs. She said she would send this information on to the appropriate people. It was a very nice, considerate email and she considered  my comments as “valid.”  It really impressed me on the prompt nature of the response and the thoughtfulness in it.

Feeling a little embarrassed myself for making snide remarks about a machine insinuating  I was invalid as a person, I felt I should share some positive things of which there were several. So I communicated a couple of the good experiences I was having through an email. Again, a very nice email came back thanking me for sharing what I did and she said she would pass it on to the ones involved.  I was feeling a little better about myself for doing that and feeling more “valid” as a person.

Over the next several months, that initial communication opened up other communications and observations I had on the bus system. Without exception, a very nice positive email came back. Not sure where she learned this art, but they were constantly uplifting and encouraging to me as well. So I decided to start this blog and tell stories of my bus experiences. Again, positive, reassuring feedback would come via email after I posted each thought. It really just egged me on.

Just recently I posted a story on Mike, a bus rider putting his life back together  (October 1, 2012 post)    It was about how brief comments can make a big difference in someone’s life.  The transit director may not had known this but she was making a huge difference in my life. Just by the mere fact she would extend appreciation for effort and add encouragement within her response. As I was to Mike, she was to me. It was a time in my life when I needed something a little extra.

The comment she shared that day, “it (the machine) didn’t talk to you that time” includes so much more. She always talked to me, shared, explained and then encouraged... naturally gifted at inspiring. As someone who uses words to express myself, I can’t find the right words to express my feelings of what she did for me over the summer. Like Mike, I am putting some things back together in my life. The bus was a place it began formulating and re-surging in my mind and spirit again.

I asked her for a meeting once and she granted it.  One question I had was what she hoped for in the bus system in the future.  After 38 years with the transit system she was retiring.  In a reflective, heartfelt voice, she said she hoped the community programs to help those who need transportation, but can’t afford it,  would continue. The bus is the only outlet some have to get around. It was evident she was very passionate on this, and compassionate to the less fortunate. Her voice, facial expression and eyes showed the respect she had for people, and some just need a little help.

In that light, I may be one of those. She always showed respect and honored my communications, not knowing who I was or wasn’t. That didn’t matter to her. What mattered was... I was a human being and a bus customer.

Running into her,  within the last 10 days of her retiring from  her position as transit director, I wanted to share personally these thoughts with her. I didn’t then, but now I want everyone to know what they were. She deserves it. If she had this impact on me, I can’t imagine the impact she has had on many over the years. She stands as a symbol of what our relationships with people should be... on the job, on the street, in the home.

From the first email as she responded to my comment through the website, to the emails that followed and then responding to this blog, she is contagiously courteous, respectful and above all a re-encourager,  an inspire-er, a motivator.   Her competent caring spirit stands out as a rare remarkable quality.

“You make my bus experience the delight of my day!”  Thank You … Carol Cruise.
And thanks for the time “you”  took to talk to me.

Mike... going somewhere in his place

Over the last several months I have been running into Mike. The first time he was on Line 14. It was fairly full that day. The one seat available was next to someone who wore an old brimmed fishing-type hat, his dress was haggard and he seemed like he could be a little thin on the dollar side.   He was reading what looked like a very old Bible... like the Gideon Bible you would find in old motels. I asked him what he was reading. He said Proverbs. Proverbs is good I told him. He spoke slowly and chose his words slowly. As we were getting off the bus, I asked him his name. He said Mike. I told him to keep reading That Book, "it will serve you well."

At another time on Line 14,  I saw Mike again, this time across the aisle. There he was reading that old Bible. It was red with a hardcover, and small type in columns. What are you reading today I asked. “Proverbs,” Mike said. “Proverbs ... there's a lot of practical wisdom there,” I said. “Stick with it, and good things will come your way.” I told him.  “I like Psalms too. They were written by a great warrior and are encouraging for people in battles.”

A week or so passed. When  I got on 14, I was sitting at the back on the side seats. The person on the back row spoke to me. He asked, “Aren’t you  the one I talked to about reading the Bible and getting my life back together?” “Oh, yes, you’re Mike.” He said, "well, I am about to make some changes. Soon I will get back to where I need to be." For some reason he felt he needed to let me know this. Something about our brief conversations struck a chord in his thinking and he was getting ready to commit to an improved  lifestyle. He never shared the specifics, but he seemed to be on the verge of a turning point in his life.

Some more time passed, then I saw something very unusual at the terminal. Someone was laying motionless on the pavement just across from the terminal. A security guard was there and a police officer came up. I walked closer and I saw another person dressed in unkempt attire kneeling next to him with his hand on this motionless person’s side. As I got closer, it looked like Mike. He was on one knee, leaning over this young man laying there.  It seemed like Mike’s lips were moving. It was a very touching scene. An ambulance then came by to attend to the young man.

Later on, as I was walking down the street by the small hamburger place just up from the terminal, there was Mike. He was reading another book, with a Spiritual theme, also with some age on it.  I told Mike  I saw him kneeling over a young man laying on the street across from the terminal last week. “Were you praying for him?” I asked. “He had a seizure...  I was trying to comfort him.” Mike answered in his hesitant, low graveling voice.

Now Mike was starting to get my attention. He was not embarrassed to help this young man when at the terminal; some people seem to stay their distance from others. The story of the Good Samaritan in the Bible came to mind. Most avoided the person injured on the ground but one person stopped to help him. That day Mike was the Good Samaritan. It got to me as many of us just choose to not get involved. He showed more care than most and was oblivious to anyone else around him.  Mike didn’t care what others thought, he cared more about the well-being of the person who was hurting and laying on the pavement.

Low and behold, a few weeks later, as I was boarding Line 2 to make a quick run to Walmart, there was Mike, the only other rider on the bus. I sat across from him. Again, Mike was reading his little, old red Bible. “Reading Proverbs?” I asked. “No, reading Psalms.”  “They are good too,” I responded. “Heading to Walmart?”  “No,” said Mike. “I am going to the used book store. They are holding some books for me.”

Maybe Mike’s life is just a fantasy. He lives with some hope. His fantasy may someday be his reality.  “ Every man has a place, in his heart there’s a space, and the world can’t erase his fantasies.” (from Fantasy by Earth, Wind and Fire)*
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z3ALlhszIeo

As I was thinking of Mike I think everyone needs a cheerleader. I may have been that for Mike over the last few months in a quiet way. Just being around and being supportive, especially when you know it’s a good thing for them, may be all the encouragement someone needs. Our small conversations can be a big conversation in someone’s life that can trigger just enough encouragement they need to make the changes they really want to make.

Then the more I thought about Mike and my taking some credit for some of the good things I was seeing develop in his life... all of a sudden my mind did a reversal on me. Maybe this is not about Mike at all. Maybe I just met one of those Angels that we see appear in the movies. You know, the one dressed like a homeless, poor person, but someone sent from God to show us a better way.
Maybe Mike was my Angel to make me see more of what I should be.

Those that we think we are helping, 
may very well be the ones helping or teaching us.


*I heard this song, Fantasy, when on Line 14 as the driver ran into the transit office to get something. He had his radio on and this song was playing... I found it on You Tube. It seemed to belong to Mike’s story.