Everyone called the bus driver John. To us kids, he seemed really old, with dark, smooth skin that seemed to glow with a special radiance.  His smile as we got on the bus warmed us more than the hot cocoa we’d down on those cold winter mornings before rushing to the corner to wait for him.

As we made our way through snowy streets, John would sometimes sing the Little Red Schoolhouse to us, and keep us entertained with stories and funny comments.

One morning as we drove through the snow lined streets he looked up into his oversized mirror so we could catch the twinkle in his eyes and told us that last night he’d fought with the Torah. Continue reading →