I had been stuck for about three hours now at a YoungLife camp I volunteered at. The other campers had left leaving only the work crew at camp.

Our bus broke down and we did not have a new one coming until a little while later.

I had been serving all weekend and I was spent.

I was sitting on the ground frustrated and tired scrolling through my phone. A boy who volunteered with me sat down next to me and started talking. Mind you, I was in no mood to talk, I was giving short responses and being dismissive. This boy kept talking about the weekend and asking for my favorite parts and all I could think was how I wanted to get home.

I was half listening and he asks, "I wonder what the reason is for the bus breaking down." and I think I turned to him, absolutely caught off guard, and said, "What did you say?" he rephrases himself again saying, "I hope we figure out why the bus broke down." Then it clicked.

He was not referencing the mechanical errors of a broken down bus, instead, he was being grateful for a broken down bus.

Why are we the only 20 or so people left at this camp a few hours away from home on a Sunday, stranded with no bus?

Why was I so ungrateful? Why did I not see there had to be a reason behind not being on the bus three hours earlier?

I might not find out why our bus ever broke down. Maybe it was to spend time with the other volunteers for a little bit longer, maybe we missed a wreck, maybe we could have been on the bus when it had broken down, or maybe I just needed to hear the lesson he taught me.

But to the boy I blew off, thank you for pursuing a conversation with me, showing me grace, even though I did not deserve it and reminding me to be grateful, even for a broken bus.

Cheers to broken buses.