I drive about 80 miles round-trip to work and back each day. I leave when the sun comes up and come home when it is getting dark. I am a creature of habit. My car has worn grooves in the road as I travel the exact path each weekday. I know when to change lanes on the highway so I will be at my exit at the proper time. I know where to avoid traffic jams and also where less than brilliant people gather at an entrance or exit ramp. I know which stop has the best coffee and who makes the best donuts.  Sometimes, the lady at the HandiStop gives me free coffee.  I climb back into my car and point it to work, humming "the volga boat man".  I punch the buttons on my radio, alternating between NPR and Christian radio. It's my routine.

Sounds rather boring, doesn't it? Sometimes it is. Sometimes, I arrive at work and do not remember driving there. It is like I was just transported there in the blink of an eye. I always remember the trip home. I like going home. On most days, there is a bright spot on my trip to work. As I round the corner from the stop light at the cemetery, coming toward the highway, I look down the road on the left until I can see where the sidewalk starts. On days when we have good weather, my friend is out there beside the road with his walker. I am not a good judge of age, but I would put him somewhere in his eighties. I do not know his name, or exactly which house he lives in, but as I drive by, he waves at me. When he sees me wave back, he tilts his head back and gives a large, open-mouth smile. I smile too. I watch him in my mirror as I drive down the road and he waves at another passing cars. I wonder if they wave back to him or just ignore him. That would be sad. Everyone should wave. I have thought about this man quite a bit over the years that I have been driving this road. I figure he has his wits about him. If he didn't, there would surely be a family member or caretaker out there watching him, so he would not endanger himself. So I know that he is aware of what he is doing. I figure he lives with family because it appears he is too old to care for himself. He is always wearing clean, pressed, light colored slacks and a button down shirt. He is clean shaven and he still has some of his silvery hair left on the sides and back of his head. I tell my co-workers about my waving friend. They think it is "cool".  I am not sure if they think the man is cool or the fact that I look forward to our brief encounters. I wonder when he began waving at cars in the morning. Did he wake up one day and say "I think I'll go wave at cars today" or did he wave at cars years ago and slowly ended up with his walker on the side of the road? He must have come from a smaller town because they still wave at cars in those places. I like that. I always wave back. I wonder what kind of job he held. Does he have any children? Is his wife still alive and does she watch him from the window as he waves? Does she see me wave back and smile? There were times I wondered if he was an angel and no one could see him but me. Anyway, he is my friend and he waves at me in the morning. On days when it is cold or rainy, he is not outside waving and I miss him. As I said, I am not sure what house he lives in, but I have found myself waving just the same. I figure he might be inside, looking out the window, and he sees me, and he tilts his head back and gives a large open-mouth smile. He might tell his family that I wave. Maybe they think it is cool. His house probably smells of fresh coffee and toast. When I grow old, I want to be like this man, standing outside with my walker, waving at cars. I would gladly trade my corporate rat race for this simpler life. There would be no competition on the other corner, seeing if they could wave at more cars that me. I wouldn't have to worry about keeping people happy so I would be allowed to continue waving at cars. I don't think you can get fired from that.  By some standards, this man may not have much left to give the world, but he gives what he has. He smiles and waves at people. He brightens his corner of the world and invites other in. This elderly man makes my day. I hope that I make his. He's my morning hero. I hope he knows that. Luke 42:44
42 And there came a certain poor widow, and she threw in two mites, which make a farthing.
43 And he called unto him his disciples, and saith unto them, Verily I say unto you, That this poor widow hath cast more in, than all they which have cast into the treasury:
44 For all they did cast in of their abundance; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her living. You may not have much to give, but you can at least wave. - Rod All contents Copyright (c) Rod
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• Topic: Inspirational

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