The Little Red Car
Driving down the freeway, traffic in a jam.
I‘m calm, yet on the look-out, doing what I can
Lanes keep disappearing, cars begin to slow.
I’m trying to move over; will someone let me go?
A red car, right behind me, gives a little toot.
Quickly I scoot over, with more cars in pursuit
But my new lane disappears and I can’t get in.
Look who’s there to help: the red car once again.
Traffic’s getting thicker. Oh, my exit’s here.
Can’t believe my eyes, but in the rear-view mirror,
Once more on this freeway, the red car makes a space.
Quickly, I zip over. Down the ramp we race
The red car right behind me, its driver wears a grin.
A friendly wave, a little honk and off we go again.
In the middle of a freeway somehow we connected.
It really made my day, such kindness unexpected.
Now there’s a toy car on my dresser, painted shiny red,
just like the picture of the car that’s in my head.
Always it reminds me, when I see it every day:
Make some room for others. Help them find their way.
By Cynthia Sheridan
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