an old man’s smile

Yesterday, I took my youngest son to the DMV to get his driver’s license.

Things were a bit shaky at first.

We walked in the door.

There was a line.

I expect this at the DMV, so no problem there.

But…

the person in front of us was just a’cussing and a’fussing about having to…

stand in line.

I spent the whole time I was in line trying to calm this person who was upset about being in line.

The rest of the time was smooth sailing, or smooth Division of Motor Vehicling, as it were.

All of the workers were friendly and helpful.

We filled out the paper work (which is no small task for me, a notoriously slow paper-filler-outer).

Zeke had his driver’s license in no time!

We walked out the door.

There was no line.

There was, however, an old man.

He wasn’t a’cussing and a’fussing.

He was a’huffing and a’puffing.

He was dressed like an old man.

He wore a grey sweater over grey slacks, tattered black shoes, and an ancient Boulder hat.

He was climbing one step at a time.

With a cane.

He had two steps to go.

“Sir, you need a hand?” I asked. “You can take my arm, and I’ll help you up.”

“No,” he answered. “No thank you. I’m gonna make it. I’m gonna make it just fine.”

All day today, I’ve asked myself, “T, is this gonna be a cussin and a fussin while I’m standin in line kind of day, or an I’m gonna make it, I’m gonna make it just fine kind of day?”

The smile on that old man’s face helped me make it just fine.