A limousine to Pizza Inn...

Doesn't that sound funny? I mean, if you had a chance to take a limo, would you take it to Pizza Inn? Well, that's where I'm going today, and that's my mode of transportation!

You see, we have these fundraisers each year at school, and the top sellers get to take a limo ride to a local restaurant and have lunch and hang out with their friends. This year, that restaurant is Pizza Inn. I get to "chaperone" this event. (Geez. I'll do it if I have to and get paid for it.) I have to tell you that when I did this last year, it was my first time in a limousine. I was just one more kid in the group. It reminded me of Tom Hanks in the movie Big when he was in the back of the limousine. (Except mine was blinged out like the one above, loud, and much cooler.) I was touching everything, eyes as wide as saucers, and even rolling the windows up and down. (Snapping stupid pictures with my phone, showing my goofy grin.) If I could have done it without getting in trouble, I would have opened that sunroof and popped up through it just like Tom Hanks did in that movie.

Instead, I took it all in and watched the kids' reactions to everything. There was one little boy in particular, smaller than the others, that I just couldn't take my eyes off of. (I happen to know this little boy from my class at school, and he's a real sweet kid.) He's a precious Latino child from a hard-working family whose parents are doing their very best to provide a good life for their children. This child, like myself, had never been anywhere near a limousine. You think my eyes were wide, you should have seen his big brown eyes. He asked me if he could roll the window down, and I told him he could as long as he kept his arms in the vehicle. He did, and it was like I was watching a scene from an Oscar winning movie in slow motion. He leaned toward the window, closed his eyes, and let the wind blow through his black hair. A smile crept on his face, and he slowly opened his eyes. He continued to look out the window, all the while smiling, and his eyes had this sense of peace that I don't think I've ever seen in a child. I could almost hear his little mind saying, "Wow... Look at me world... I am in a limousine!" I wanted to speak to him, but I didn't want to ruin the moment, and frankly I was teary and afraid I would break if I opened my mouth. He didn't even know anyone else was there, however, and that's just how it needed to be for him.

Later in our trip, I said to him something along the lines of this all being pretty cool. He nodded and whispered a quiet "yes". I asked if he'd ever been in a limousine before, and he said no. I told him that I hope when he grows up he will be able to ride in a limousine any time he wants to. He took his eyes from the floor right up to my eyes and smiled, and I'm pretty sure I saw a tear. I bet he saw one too.

So today, I must sacrifice my class time for another tough limousine ride with the kids. I hope that today, just like last time, God will take my attention away from myself and place it where it needs to be. When I look at those children, I ache for them, because I just don't really know what their future holds. Today I will look at them with a smile, remember Jose, and pray that God will give each of them a future of pizza and limousines.