Mt. Hope

I wasn't quite at the top of the hill when a car full of teenagers drove past me. And then there was another. And one more. “Of course,” I thought, “Mt. Hope's letting out.” I considered turning around since I was heading toward the school and certain to encounter more traffic than usual.  I dismissed the thought and kept riding. It seemed easier to maintain my direction, so I continued up the hill.

As I rounded the corner I saw groups of kids walking in bunches toward me. A group of boys, including one on a skateboard, approached. One of the boys called to me, “Hi, biker guy!” I smiled and offered a nod in his direction. I wondered if my old-school-Denver-Broncos’-orange-and-blue ugly, yet beautiful jacket was attracting undo attention.  Old guys in lycra are easy targets for teenage derision, never mind the colorful jacket. When the next group-  a mix of guys and girls- failed to even notice me as I rode past, I dropped my concern. Besides, having worked with teens for so long, any ridicule I might have been subject to would be received with amusement.

Teenagers are a funny bunch; awkward, funny, passionate, searching and surprisingly vulnerable behind the façade of cool. The teens I rode past fit the bill.  Some loud and boisterous, others staring at the ground or the screen of their phone. I scanned the road in front of me, looking a hundred or so feet up ahead and that’s when I first noticed her. It was her outfit that caught my attention; fading jeans and white tank top, tight and small with a low neck-line. Over her shoulder was a boy’s winter coat covered arm, slung carelessly yet somehow purposefully over her. She leaned against him as they walked, bracing herself against the wind on this 40 degree day.

“She must be freezing.” The thought entered my mind at approximately the same time I was close enough to see their faces. He, unsmiling, she smiling and bounding with a nervous energy, attempting to appear both aloof the obvious cold while trying to keep warm next to him. I guessed she was 14 years old. She seemed to enjoy the attention, but I thought I caught a trace of sadness in her eyes as I rolled past.

A silent sadness enveloped me as I prayed for her and rode on. I hope tomorrow will be a better day for her.