The True Meaning of Friendship

My fellow teachers left the clock room open so that we could clock out. The average age of my colleagues is about 45. None offered us a ride through the snow. But, at least, they didn't close the clock room door and forget that we needed to clock out. That's a big deal. It means they remembered that we still existed. They didn't just assume that because most of the cards were on the "Out" side, that all of them were. They actually checked. That's great.

One of the security guards, a woman in her very young sixties drove me, my best friend (who is also a teacher) and two security guards to the station. I sat on my side so that three of us could fit in the back. We all laughed as the car did it's best zigging and zagging through on the ice. We joked that our collective weight gave us an edge -- we were pushing down hard on that ice.

For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel afraid to ask for help. I called a million car services and none would come. The wind was blowing so hard I doubted that we could even SEE the bus to the train station or survive the cold waiting for it. I just asked the security guard and she agreed instantly. We piled in like a tight package of mashed potatoes.

That ride saved us from pneumonia. The open door saved us from having no proof that we had worked the full night. Those are important things.