When I was in elementary school, we were poor. The school offered free lunch but when the teacher called your name to collect lunch money, you had to call out free lunch. I was too embarrassed so I would just skip lunch. The bus driver told me he needed help opening the doors when kids got on the bus in the mornings, and asked if I could help. I also had to walk the isle of the bus and make sure everyone was off, which ment I was the last one off the bus. He slipped me a quarter before I got off the bus for helping. I had lunch every day and the other kids didn't know. We became great friends and he became the closest thing to a father I ever had. He took me to church with his family and also paid for me to go to 4H camp two summers in a row, among other things. We moved when I was in 8th grade and that was the last time I saw him. My children know of him and so will my grandchildren. I'm still brought to tears when I think about him. Love is the greateat gift!