I see you Lollipop Man, through my window.
I see your wisened, withered frame, always wearing the same clothes. A uniform you wear with pride.
I see you stride with confidence into the middle of the road, to halt traffic, to ensure safe passage.
I see you look at me, time and again. Smile. Nod. A knowing between you and I.
I see you talk to the children.
I see you see them.
I see them not see you.
I see your soft dewy eyes, a life lived; not over yet.
I see you chat to Joe when he gets to the lights. “How’s your mum, Joe?” A shrug.
I see the worry.
I see the care.
I see you shiver in winter’s chill.
I see you sweat in summer’s smothering heat.
I see your commitment, pride, compassion, kindness.
I see you wave at me as the lights turn green.
I see you Lollipop Man. I see you.
Until next time,
You have summed up exactly how I feel about lollipop people Sarah. I was thinking just the other day, I feel ashamed that I was dismissive of our elderly bus driver when I was a teenager catching the school bus home.
I smile at the lollipop ladies and gents when I’m on my way to work.
Hey Natasha. Those lollipop people certainly deserve a tip of our hats I think! I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself about being a teenager and ignoring your bus driver. It’s good that you honour them now, in adult hood. As teenagers we are more focussed on ourselves. xx