Getting up each morning was a struggle. Remy, my son, would drag his feet to the front door, while his eyes were already filled with excitement before he had even finished zipping his bag. His heart is 10 times larger than the hearts of any other child I know, yet he has Down syndrome. However, this did not prevent a couple of the other children on the bus from making him feel uncomfortable and inferior.

One day, he arrived to his house overjoyed. For the first time in months, I had seen a grin on a school day. What had changed, I inquired? The only thing he did was shrug and say, “Bus is doing better now.”

That evening, I received a phone call from a different parent. It would seem that Mr. Cedric, a former Marine who had a soft heart for “his kids,” had pulled over that morning, switched off the motor, and made the following announcement to the whole bus:

No shouting is allowed. There will be no lecture. Nothing more than 10 words and a look.

“I’m going to walk away from you if I hear any more hurtful words about Remy.”

When Remy woke up the next morning, he almost skipped to the bus stop. He went so far as to wave farewell without my having to ask him to do so. I stood there, shocked and blinking, like if I had missed something of tremendous importance.

On that particular evening, I assembled a little package of cookies and penned a post-it note. I am grateful to you for advocating on behalf of my kid. Then, I placed it inside a paper bag and gave it to Remy so that he could present it to Mr. Cedric.

After a week, now it’s been two. Every morning became less difficult. Remy would return home and talk about his day, focusing mostly on a young lady called Layla who sat next to him and drew images of unicorns. I didn’t want to bring bad luck upon myself, but I gave myself permission to have optimism.

On the other hand, almost as fast as things began to improve, they altered once again.

One afternoon, Remy stepped off the bus with his eyes burning and his lips pulled together tightly. It is silent. You just gave me a painting that was crumpled and then marched inside.

This was a drawing of him, and the word “dummy” was scribbled in red crayon across the front of his shirt.

When I was in slow motion, I felt my heart breaking.

I also phoned the transportation office in addition to sending a text message to the administration and an email to the school counselor. Nobody was able to determine who was responsible for it. It was the day when the cameras on the bus had a “glitch.” Mr. Cedric said that he did not see anything, but he assured everyone that he would keep a closer check on the situation.

However, I was aware that something was not quite right.

I was the one who walked Remy to the bus stop the next morning. I asked Mr. Cedric in a low voice, “Would it be okay if I rode along one day?” it was just before he stepped on. Do I really need to see things for myself?

In a knowing expression, he looked at me. According to the rules, parents are not permitted unless it is a field trip. On the other hand, if you stay behind us for a few days, nobody will be able to stop you.

And so I did.

I drove in the same direction as the bus. Certainly not on a daily basis, but just enough to have a feel for the pattern. I parked in a stealthy manner at corners and kept a close eye on the children who entered and exited the vehicle. Tommy, who was wearing an enormous sweatshirt, Jess, who had purple streaks in her hair, and Nathan, who was carrying a massive bag and was always hooked to his phone, were these individuals whom I began to remember.

After that, I became aware of something one day.

Zach, a little child, emerged off the vehicle at the third stop. I knew him from the talent contest that was held at the school; he had played the piano well. However, as soon as he sat behind Remy, his whole face underwent a transformation. Chilly. Restricted. Remy jerked in response to the rapid movement of his lips. Although I was unable to hear what he was saying, I was able to see enough.

In the afternoon of that day, I waited at the curb.

My introduction to Zach took place as soon as he got off the bus.

“I’m Remy’s mom,” I stated in a composed manner. I wanted to let you know that I saw how you spoke with him today.

He had a reddened face. It seemed as if he had been caught stealing from a store.

“Nothing was said by me,” I answered.

I maintained a steady tone in my speech. I don’t think you need to elaborate. Just try to put yourself in your shoes and imagine how you would react.

He blinked, did a quick glance down, and then dashed off.

The next morning, Remy seemed to be uncertain about the bus once again. Then, however, an unexpected occurrence took place.

Zach reserving a seat for him.

Despite the fact that he did not talk, he moved over and tapped the seat next to him.

I didn’t anticipate that there would be much of a shift. However, it would seem that Mr. Cedric also observed.

After some time had passed, I received yet another phone call. Rather than coming from a parent or the school, Mr. Cedric himself is the source of this information.

He started out by saying, “Ma’am, I’ve been driving this route for the past six years.” In addition, I have to remark that your son really altered the atmosphere on this bus.

I let out a quiet chuckle. You were a significant contributor to it, in my opinion.

He hesitated for a moment. “Might be. But, do children like Zach? They are not difficult to soften. What a remarkable accomplishment it was!

Numerous weeks passed. It is now springtime. He would say, “for Layla and Zach,” and then he would start requesting for more food to be packed.

On a certain day, I received an email from the art instructor. Additionally, she requested permission to include Remy’s drawings into the school’s art fair. It seems that Layla and Zach were successful in persuading her that he ought to be a part of it. It was written by her that “His style is raw and kind.” “The children absolutely adore it.”

I spent a considerable amount of time staring at the email.

In the evening, Remy presented me with his most recent artwork. The vehicle was a school bus, and it was floating over the clouds while carrying a group of happy smiles. The words “Best Bus Ever” were penned by him in a kind of handwriting that was imperfect yet proud.

I shed tears. I was gently stroked on the arm, and he murmured, “No tears of sadness, Mama.”

Then, a turn of events that I were not expecting.

It was stated that Mr. Cedric would be retiring.

Midway through the month of May was scheduled to be his final day. A little party was held at the station, and he had invited all of the parents of the children. I made cupcakes and delivered a thank-you letter that was signed by fifty percent of the households in the area.

Zach and his mother were hardly the first people I anticipated seeing when I stepped in.

With some reluctance, she came up to me. Is it true that you are Remy’s mother?

I gave a little nod.

Eyes drooping, she let out a groan. “I simply wanted to express my gratitude to you. due to the manner in which you communicated with my son. I am aware that he was… harsh. But as of late, he has been more forthcoming. Remy, despite all that had happened, he informed me, had forgiven him. This really got to him, didn’t it?

A lump was in my throat, and I swallowed it. “That is the effect that Remy has on people.”

It was a smile. “He is unparalleled. I’m not only referring about the medical aspect.”

The celebration was charming and casual in nature. Mr. Cedric delivered a brief address, but he became choked up in the middle of it. After that, he motioned to Remy and stated, “That little guy brought to my mind the reason I decided to take this job.” I had the impression that I had finished safeguarding people when I left the Marine Corps. But as it turns out, there are still some assignments that find you.

In the room, not a single person had a dry eye.

Summer arrived and then left.

Art exchanges and goofy postcards were the means by which Remy maintained communication with Layla and Zach. During the autumn semester, when classes returned, a new driver took over. Her name was Mrs. Elaine, and she was kind and upbeat. She brought a thermos of peppermint tea and stickers for each and every child.

However, there was another thing that had changed.

The children on the bus had not been the same.

There were several flaws as well. Children will always be children. Nevertheless, there was a new vibe that was calmer and friendlier. It seemed as if the legacy of a single person and a single event had spread forth.

To my surprise, I received an envelope in the mail one afternoon.

It was Zach who sent it.

On the inside was a photograph of a painting that he had created, which depicted him and Remy standing next to each other during the school art exhibition. At the very bottom, he recorded:

I am grateful that you have recognized the finest in each of us.

I pondered it for a considerable amount of time.

Due to the fact that I had nearly overlooked it—the broader picture.

The issue was not limited to putting an end to bullies.

There was a focus on constructing bridges.

Regarding the decision to be nice even when it is difficult.

And about the fact that 10 words, ten straightforward words said by someone who cared, might reverberate more loudly than a thousand lectures.

Therefore, to all of the parents who are reading this, I want to say that you should never undervalue the power of just being there, of silently observing, and of stepping up when the situation calls for it.

Remember that your light has the power to transform spaces, hearts, and minds, just as Remy did.

And to all of the Mr. Cedrics in the world, I am grateful to you.

Although you may not be wearing a uniform anymore, you are still considered to be our heroes.

If you feel that this story has touched your heart, please share it with someone who is in need of some hope right now. Alternatively, leave a comment and tell me about a time when you met someone who changed your life with only a few words.

Share.
Facebook
Twitter