I was on my way home when I saw a little girl on a school bus banging on the back window in terror. My world stopped. Something was terribly wrong. But what danger could a small child be in on a seemingly safe school bus? I chased after the bus to find out, but my heart couldn’t take it.
The rain pounded on my windshield as I drove home, and every drop reflected in my heart. Today was the worst day of my life. First my fiancé cancelled our wedding last week, and now I lost my job. My head was a jumble of thoughts and emotions…..
‘Stay calm, Molly,’ I whispered to myself, clenching the steering wheel with my knuckles. “There has to be another way. If one door closes, another opens, right?”
But the words seemed empty. How could I go home and tell Mum she’d been sacked?
She was worried herself. Ever since Dad died, she’d been my rock, and the last thing I wanted to do was let her down.
My phone rang for the fifth time. It was Mum again. I pulled over to the kerb and answered.
“Yes Mum, I’ll be there in ten minutes. I’m driving…”
“Molly, honey, have you seen the weather report? There’s a big storm coming. Please be careful.”
I swallowed hard. This storm was nothing compared to the one raging inside me.
“Yes, yes, don’t worry. I’ll be right there.”
“Is everything okay? You seem a little out of sorts.”
“I’m fine, mum. Just… tired. I need to go, okay? Love you,” I hung up the phone, my throat constricted.
How could I tell her that I had lost my job just for speaking out against my superiors? Their excuse was that they ‘didn’t meet quarterly plans,’ but I knew the real reason.
‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ I muttered, putting the car in reverse gear.
Little did I know that I was about to find out.
As I merged back into the flow of traffic, a yellow school bus rumbled past me. Something caught my eye in the rear window: a little girl, her face pressed against the glass, tiny fists pounding frantically. She was crying out for help.
“What the…? Oh my God…is she okay?” I gasped.
Without thinking, I started the engine and rushed for the bus. The child was clearly in trouble, but why? What danger could she be in on a seemingly safe school bus?
‘I’m coming, hang on honey,’ I muttered, signalling repeatedly.
The bus driver didn’t seem to notice anything, continuing down the road as if nothing had happened. Panic rose in my chest and I made a split second decision. I drove around the bus and sped in front of it, forcing it to stop in the middle of the busy road.
The driver, a heavyset man with a thick black moustache, jumped out of the car. “What kind of stunt are you up to, lady? You could cause an accident!”
I ignored him, squeezed past him and rushed onto the bus. The noise came down on me like a wall. Children huddled around the girl, screaming and laughing.
I rushed to the back of the bus where the girl sat alone, her face flushed and covered in tears. As I approached her, I froze. This was not at all what I expected.
‘Oh my God, are you having an asthma attack?’
The girl nodded convulsively, her chest heaving as she struggled for air. I knelt down next to her chair, my heart pounding frantically.
‘What’s your name, sweetheart?’ I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.
She pointed to the ID hanging around her neck. Her name was Chelsea.
“Okay, Chelsea, we’re going to help you now. Where’s your inhaler?”
Chelsea shook her head, unable to speak. I looked up and saw that the driver had followed me, his face pale.
‘Do you know where her inhaler is?’
He shook his head. “I…I didn’t even know she had a problem. It’s so noisy in here, I couldn’t hear anything.”
I held back a rant and started searching Chelsea’s backpack. Nothing. Panic swept me up from the inside when I saw the little girl’s lips start to turn blue.
‘Help me look!’ I shouted to the driver.
We searched under the seats, in the aisle, everywhere we could think of. To my horror, I realised that the other kids were laughing and some were even pointing at Chelsea.
‘This isn’t funny!’ I pounced on them. ‘She needs help!’
And then it hit me. I started grabbing everyone by their backpacks, ignoring their protests.
‘Hey, you can’t do that!’ – A freckle-faced boy shouted.
I found it in the third bag I checked: a blue inhaler with Chelsea’s name on it. I pounced on the boy to whom the backpack belonged.
‘Why do you have that?’
He turned away, muttering: ‘It was just a joke.’
“A joke? She could have died!”
I hurried back to Chelsea and helped her use the inhaler. Gradually her breathing evened out and the colour returned to her face. I held her hand, whispering soothing words as she came to her senses.
The driver stood still, kneading his hands. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea…”
I turned to him, blazing with anger. “Those kids are your responsibility! You should have checked to see what was going on when you heard the noise!”
He nodded with an embarrassed face. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Chelsea tugged at my sleeve, her voice a barely audible whisper. ‘Thank you.’
Those two words hit me harder than anything else that happened that day. I couldn’t leave her alone after that.
‘I’ll stay with you until we get you home, okay?’
Chelsea nodded, a small smile appearing on her tear-drenched face.
I turned to the driver. “I’m going to move my car and go with her. Is that okay with you?”
He nodded quickly. “Sure. It’s the least we can do after…well, everything.”
As I got off the bus to move my car to a nearby car park, I realised my hands were shaking. What a day it had been.
When I got back on the bus, I sat next to Chelsea, putting my arm around her shoulders. The other kids were unusually quiet, finally getting the seriousness of what had happened.
‘Why didn’t the other kids help you?’ – I asked softly. softly I asked. softly I asked.
Chelsea’s lower lip trembled. “They think it’s funny when I can’t breathe. Sometimes they hide my inhaler.”
My heart shivered. “That’s not okay, Chelsea. You know that, right?”
She nodded, looking at her hands. ‘I try to be brave, but sometimes I get so scared.’
I squeezed her shoulder. “You were incredibly brave today. You got my attention when you needed help. That takes a lot of courage.”
A small smile played on her lips. ‘Really?’
“Really. You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met.”
Two stops later, Chelsea pointed out the window. ‘That’s my mum and dad!’
When we got off the bus, Chelsea’s parents rushed over to us, confusion written all over their faces.
‘Chelsea, who’s that?’ – Her mother asked, looking at me warily.
Chelsea’s voice grew stronger, and she said: “It’s Molly. She saved my life.”
After Chelsea explained what had happened, her parents’ facial expressions changed from confusion to gratitude to anger at the bus driver, the other children, and the whole situation.
‘I don’t know how to thank you guys,’ Chelsea’s father said through tears.
‘I’m just glad I was able to help.’
Chelsea’s mother, Mrs Stewart, insisted on driving me back to the car. As we pulled into the mall car park, the sky opened up and the rain poured down in a downpour.
‘So, Molly,’ Mrs Stewart said, looking at me through the rain-wet windscreen, ‘what do you do?’
I laughed bitterly. “Funny you should ask. I actually lost my job today.”
Mrs Stewarts raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. May I ask what happened?”
I sighed, the events of the day coming over me again. “I disclosed some unethical behaviour. They didn’t like it and found an excuse to let me go.”
Mrs Stewart was silent for a moment. Then she said: “You know, my husband and I have a small business. We might have an opening. Maybe you’d be interested in coming in for an interview?”.
I blinked, not sure I’d heard her correctly. ‘Are you serious?’
She smiled. “Of course I am. Anyone who would go to such lengths to help a child in need is someone I’d love to have on my team.”
By the time we reached my car, the rain had stopped drizzling. Mrs Stewart held out her business card to me.
‘Call me tomorrow,’ she said. ‘You and I will make arrangements.’
I squeezed the business card, and a spark of hope lit up in my chest. “Thank you. I’ll call you.”
I woke up the next morning feeling lighter than I had in weeks. I told my mum about everything that had happened. About losing my job, saving Chelsea, the potential new opportunity… everything.
Shed hugged me tightly, pride glowing in her eyes.
‘I always knew you were destined for great things, honey!’
Now, as I dialled the number on Mrs Stewarts card, my heart raced again, but this time from excitement rather than fear.
‘Hello, Molly,’ Mrs Stewarts warm voice came through the receiver. “I’m so glad you called. How would you feel about coming in for an interview this afternoon?”
I couldn’t contain the grin that spread across my face. “I’d love to. Thank you so much for this opportunity.”
‘No, Molly,’ she said, and I could practically hear the smile in her voice. “Thank you. You saved our daughter. It’s the least we can do.”
As I hung up the phone, tears came to my eyes. But for the first time in a long time, they were tears of joy, not sadness.
I was so happy and I realised that this is really true: When God closes one door, He always opens another. And sometimes that new door leads to places you never imagined.
