The Man at my Bus Stop

I ride the bus now, surprise surprise...recent college graduate can't afford a car...but hey the bus gets me to work early so its all good...

After work I walk out to my bus stop and sure enough within a few minutes a little old man follows me. He is slightly hunched over, and leans on his cane as he slowly crosses over the damp, muddy, grass. His movements are slow, but he gets where he needs to be. He finally reaches the sidewalk. We make eye contact but are still too far away to speak to each other. He traverses the rest of the distance to the small bench where we wait for our bus. I say "hello" with a smile.

He simply says "God bless," and sits down. I do not know if he speaks much English because he motions to his body as if to say "that was a long walk," but he does not use any words. He simply uses his heavy breathing and arms to express that he is exhausted.

I ask him if it was a long walk. He simply continues his breathing and smiles. I do not think he is fluent in English. We spend the rest of our time together on this bench in silence, watching the cars pass by.

Our bus pulls up, and we board it. The man is slow in his approach of the bus, relying on his cane as he walks towards it. He takes the steps onto the bus slowly, as traffic is forced to move around the bus. Two steps up and he pays the bus driver before taking the last step onto the bus. The man seats himself in the very front of the bus and watches the houses pass by through the windows.

The man only travels a few blocks on the bus. During that time we pass by a Catholic Church. The man is facing the opposite window, but knows the location of the Church. He blesses himself quietly as the bus passes the building.

He gets off at the stop, waiting for the bus to leave before walking away and our time together is over. This man doesn't say much to me, but it is in that short phrase, and the simple action of blessing himself that I find joy and comfort in this man.

This little old man does not know me. He does not know that I am a practicing Catholic. He has no way of knowing this, and yet the only words he said to me were "God bless." Those words, which unfortunately in today's world can be quite controversial are the only words this man chose to say to me. But it was really the amount of respect he showed as we passed the parish I grew up in that got me. He did not make a big giant gesture out of it, he didn't even know anyone was looking. But as we passed that building, which contains Jesus in the form of the Holy Eucharist, he quietly blessed himself. I was blown away.

This man's actions spoke volumes. How much can I learn from this man about how to carry myself in my day to day life? How much does this man touch other people's lives without knowing? How many people are reminded of their faith, or brought back to their faith, because this man quietly blesses himself on a city bus? How can I use this man's bus ride as an example for my own life?