I’ve spent most of my life doing quiet work.
The kind no one really notices unless something goes wrong.
For the past twenty years, I’ve been a school bus driver. I’m the woman who reminds kids to zip their coats, who keeps extra mittens and granola bars in a crate by my seat, who knows which child needs a cheerful “good morning” and which one just needs silence.
At 56, my life was simple. Predictable. Safe.
And I liked it that way.
