The Boy at the Back of the Bus
The winter morning bit through the air, but the school bus was always warm with chatter and laughter. After years of driving those familiar routes, I had learned how much small kindnesses mattered — a cheerful “good morning,” a silly joke before sunrise, a smile on a tired face.
That day, while checking the seats after drop-off, I heard a quiet sniffle from the very back. A young boy sat curled into his jacket, trying to stay warm. His hands peeked out — bare and red from the cold. I gently offered him my gloves. He looked up in surprise before slipping them on, his small face softening with relief.
He told me his family was doing their best and just needed a little time to afford winter things. That moment stayed with me all day — the way he tried to be brave, the way he thanked me so quietly. On my way home, I stopped by a local store and bought gloves and scarves in different sizes. The next morning, I placed a small box at the front of the bus with a note: “If you’re cold, take something warm.”