A tottering old bus, something of a chicken coop on wheels, screeched to a stop where I waited hand-in-hand with my mother. I was about to take my first trip alone, a 20-mile expedition from Guthrie Center to Hamlin.
Noting my fingernail biting, Mom pulled my hand from my mouth. “Everything will be fine,” she said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
I took my mother’s reassuring words as gospel. In all my 10 years, she’d never been mistaken — at least until now.