Just Stop Already

On Thursdays and Fridays on the way to work, I always see three school crossing guards at an intersection in Summerlin, looking very official in their bright yellow vests. If I happen to get stopped by the light, I enjoy watching them walk, stoically, puffed up with importance, to the center of the intersection, holding their stop signs up high. They bravely face oncoming traffic, a single person standing against the fray, and provide safe passage for school children, joggers, and people walking their dogs.

You have to admire these people. They don’t do it for the money. There isn’t any glamour. And they’re out in all weather – the woman at my intersection is often wrapped up with a scarf around her head. And they always do their job so diligently, following the rules to the letter. The three at my intersection stand at their opposite corners, waiting for the important moment when they protect strangers from disaster. No time to chitchat while waiting for the next pedestrian. They have a job to do.

How nice it would be to have crossing guards in all aspects of life. I’d like a person in a yellow vest to stand by my desk at work and hold up his stop sign to protect me from cruel words from annoyed customers. There would be no need for me to ever protest; his sign would say it all. How about a guard to pave my way through crowded airports when I’m struggling with luggage, tickets, and baby? The seas would part as he holds his stop sign high. And I could use one when I just need a break. He could hold his stop sign up when the phone rings too much, when the baby cries, when bills are due, when life just hands me too much and I need a break. Of course everyone would obey his valiant sign. That’s just what we do.