Dear Trolley Driver,
Thank you for the lift today. We’ve been having a rough go of it, lately. By we, I mean Amos.
He’s been out of sorts the last couple weeks and this morning, his teacher and I tried to figure out why.
Maybe, Christmas? Or all the rain? Maybe he’s just worn out from school.
It’s the autism that so often makes things tricky and though, he’s talking more and making progress, in other ways, life is harder.
No rain meant the playground was fair game this afternoon and on our way, he spied the trolley. “
Yes, trolley!”, he shouted, as it sat idling.
The driver appeared and welcomed us to have a look around the trolley that’s become an old friend.
It’s the same trolley that took Amos and his friends to Dairy Queen last year for a birthday celebration.
It’s the same trolley that some sixteen years ago, hauled two twenty somethings to their wedding reception a hot October day.
We were so young.
I couldn’t have guessed how life would turn out. How wonderfully messy and tough and joy filled and amazing our lives would be, even amidst the dark days.
Sometimes, angels come in the form of trolley drivers and today, the world was better because you drove a little boy and his mama home.
Thank you, Clayton.
Amos and Adrian