A first-grade boy was told by his mother to return home directly after school was dismissed, but he got home as much as 20 minutes late almost every day. His mother asked him, “You get out of school the same time every day. Why can’t you get home at the same time?”
He said, “It depends on the cars.”
“What do cars have to do with it?” his mother asked him.
The youngster explained, “The patrol boy who takes us across the street makes us wait until some cars come along so he can stop them.”
When I was in elementary school, I was a crossing guard for both of my fourth grade years. I loved the power. The whole universe would stop on my command. I felt in charge. I had the pole, the orange vest, and a whistle. And I knew how to use it.
It was a real rush, controlling when others could walk, drive, or stand still. But there was one problem. At the end of the day, I put my whistle back in the box and returned my snappy orange vest and my pole. Then I had to walk home. And there was no one to help me.
I learned a hard lesson. It’s a lot easier to tell others how to walk than it is to get it right yourself.