Image by Christophe Schindler from Pixabay Montreal Skyline
Back in the late sixties, yes, the nineteen sixties, bus fare or often called car fare for an adult was thirty-five cents and for anyone twelve and under it was ten cents.
This was a time when parents felt it was safe for children, say around the ages of ten and up to travel by transit unaccompanied by an adult and I would travel from Verdun to downtown Montreal which was about a twenty-five-minute ride by car so a little longer by public transit.
This one day I (age 12) was returning home and waiting at the bus stop digging in my pocket to make sure I had my dime to put in the farebox.
Remembering back, I was talking to this older woman who was quite nice when my bus pulled up and we said good-bye to each other as she was taking a different bus.
I stepped up and deposited my dime when the bus driver said to me, you’re a quarter short young lady, to which I replied, I’m only twelve and he wouldn’t believe me making me get off the bus returning my dime to me.
Standing watching the bus drive away I explained to the nice lady I was talking to earlier what had just happened, and she reached into her purse and gave me a thirty-five cent bus ticket so that I could go home.
© Susan Zutautas 2019
This short story was written for Six Sentence Story over at GirlieOnTheEdge. This weeks challenge is to use the word FARE.
it’s nice to know that we can often count on the kindness of strangers.
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Yes, I only wish that there were more people like that lady in the world today.
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true that!
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Just when someone is being a nickelwit, you meet kindness.
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I remember those days – being out playing, riding bikes far, no worries 🙂
The bus driver was not cool! So glad there was someone to look out for you.
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I’ll remember that wonderful lady always.
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This is a really lovely tale.
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Thanks!
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I agree with Crimsonprose. Bad driver, bad, bad driver.
Thank goodness for the kind lady.
Good six. Makes us think.
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Thank you!
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