Perspective.
By Mel Hansen, The Eighteen Wheeler PhilosopherI've been sitting here at the truck stop since about 19:00 hours last night because I misread my delivery date and time. I was 1.75 hours late in arriving at my destination. I was informed upon my late arrival that it was most likely I wouldn't be able to be unloaded and would have to re-schedule for tomorrow evening, which is today.
Being my own harshest critic and executioner, I laid awake most of the night fussing over what I had done and the inconveniences I had created, even though both my employer and the broker of the load, said not to worry. This happens from time to time and everything will be good. I still cursed at and punished myself with very little sleep over not being more dependable and responsible.
Around 2:30 a.m. this truck pulled in next to me and shut down for the rest of the evening. Good lookn' ol truck, but as the sun began to rise I noticed the wheelchair strapped down behind the sleeper. Never gave it much thought, until a nice looking young lady climbed down from the passenger side door, stretched, and walked in front of the truck, where her husband, carrying their son in his beefy arms, joined her, and they walked to the store, laughing and smiling, pointing at the mountains to the east.
About 10 minutes later, Dad, carrying his son, came walking back, as a couple of truckin' dogs came running at them. Dad sat his son down on the pavement, the young boy and the little dogs had a blast for a few minutes! The look of joy and pleasure on the little guys face was priceless! They played until mom came out. She got out her phone to take pictures and videos of her son and the dogs.
Dad picked up his son...the little guy yelling, “thanks for letting me play with your dogs!” As mom was climbing up into the truck, she noticed me sitting in mine with the window down. She smiled at me and asked if I live here. I said...”yes ma'am! Sixty miles to the east on the west side of a beautiful little lake!”
“We're from Texas, and we're not used to seeing
mountains, you sure live in a beautiful place!” she says.
“I think so too,” I said, “but your son playing
with those little dogs was the most beautiful thing I've seen in a long time!”
“Thanks!” She said. “He's our reason for living! He's such a blessing! God be with you in your travels,” she tells me as she closed the door.
I still feel bad about the inconvenience I've created but maybe...just maybe, I was supposed to witness this little guy with total joy on his face to remind me that there's more to life than always being ahead or on time.
