27 of 31: Fun in the Rearview Mirror

Today was the first day back from spring break. Dark clouds poured rain all day long in a deluge that bemoaned the return of blinding fluorescent lights and tardy bells. My seventh graders were rather subdued and hardly even protested the writing pretest they completed after they shared a bit about their own spring breaks.

With the last bell, students quickly packed up their belongings and slammed locker doors. Many seemed just as exhausted as me, and I found myself longing to pack my bags, too. But alas, the dreaded Monday afternoon faculty meeting delayed my departure.

Let's just say that this was a frustrating meeting and the gripes and negativity were as ubiquitous as the gray clouds that filled the sky.

Finally, forty-five minutes later sweet relief. I headed to my car mentally exhausted and chiding myself for complaining to my colleagues. I vowed to return tomorrow with a better attitude.

So I drove home. I was almost there, two streets away in fact, when I looked into my rearview mirror. And there he was. His ball cap was precariously perched on his head and I noticed his strawberry blond beard stretched from ear to ear, but was noticeably absent above his lip. He was young. Maybe a high schooler or college freshman based on what looked like a parking permit dangling from his rear view mirror.

There was nothing extraordinary about his looks, but what was exceptionally captivating was his singing and dancing. Though he was alone in his car, it was as if he was performing live on stage to thousands of adoring fans. His head moved to a rhythm I could almost feel and he sang the words with unabashed passion. Bobbleheads would need neck braces if forced to keep up with this young man's swiveling neck, ducking chin, and shoulder shrugs. It didn't take long for my own smile to span from ear to ear. Quickly, my eyes darted back and forth between the road ahead and my rearview mirror not wanting to miss a second. I couldn't get enough of this kid, and he obviously couldn't get enough of whatever song thumped through his speakers and filled his car with fun. When he signaled with his blinker, strutting and jutting his head, I sadly continued straight up the hill and watched him disappear around the corner.

I was humbly reminded that one can find joy in anything if they take the time to stop and look for it...even in a faculty meeting or your own rearview mirror.