Garbage Day

My heart sank when I heard the garbage truck come around the corner. I forgot to put the bin out last night. I raced out the back door, not stopping to close it, and around the side of the house, willing the truck to be slow. It wasn’t.

I stood at the top of the driveway with one arm behind me holding the bin handle. I’m sure I made a slightly pathetic picture; I didn’t even make it to the curb. I just stood there, watching the vehicle drive past in seemingly slow motion. I sighed, and turned back towards the house, dragging the heavy bin behind me.

Then, a movement caught my eye. The truck appeared back into view as it reversed back. It stopped. I hesitated for a fraction. Then I put my hand up in a questioning wave. The driver put his hand up in response. I ran down the pebbled driveway in bare feet; the bin behind me felt light.

“Thank you so much!” I said as the driver wound down the window.

He didn’t say anything. He just smiled. I stood back and watched the metal arm capture the bin, effortlessly emptying the contents into the back. Then the truck and its driver went on.

The empty bin is sitting back where it should be and I have a spot of glee inside me. Why would such a little triumph make me so happy? Because it did. Why would such a small kindness mean so much? Because it does.

Wheelie Bin

Shared this post originally on my Facebook page and you can read it here.


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