The Bus Driver

bus with ramp

Contemporary Microfiction

He was retired of course. He could never live on this salary alone, but he loved his job. More than anything, he liked working with the people. He had taken the job to earn grocery money, but now he saw it as doing his part to help others. He grew to love the people. Most people would call his riders “disabled”, but he didn’t. He saw them as people first, not being defined by their limitations. Joe Cappelli was a blessed man, to be able to do what he was doing, and he knew it.

Every day he had a route and picked up only certain passengers. They mostly needed to go to doctor appointments, sometimes to dialysis, or to the county health center. But he also took them to one of his favorite places, the library. Each one had a caregiver, some were appointed and some had family members taking care of them. The family members always had the toughest job on earth, trying to take care of their child, pouring their heart and soul, and all of their energy, into taking care of someone else. Many were frazzled, or emotionally drained, and needed to take care of themselves more.

As he drove he would often talk to the caregiver, giving them words of encouragement, and reminding them to not forget to take care of themselves. But he always talked to the patients as well. Some people had the terrible habit of ignoring patients, even at the clinic, or the doctor’s office. When they did, he burned with anger. He would restrain himself, but he would say something like, “You know Bobbie can hear you!” or “Why don’t you talk to Sarah, she’s sitting right here.”littel girl

Sarah Chung brightened up his life. He loved this nine year old, with the smile that would melt the hardest of hearts. She was so alive! Her parents had abandoned her at birth, presumably because she had Down’s syndrome. Twice a week he would take her to her appointments and to the library. She loved books! He also liked her caregiver, Emma Sanchez. Emma was about his age, and she had a great personality. She was originally from Peru, and he loved her accent. She was well…um…pretty, to say the least! He and Emma became good friends.

He wasn’t sure if he and Emma would ever become lovers, but he loved being able to talk to her. They often went out for coffee, or to the movies. His wife and left him years ago for someone else, and he realized Emma was bringing healing into his life. He trusted Emma like no one else.

Another patient he grew to love was Scottie Thompson. Scottie was a fighter. Everyday Scottie fought MS (multiple sclerosis). At fourteen Scottie had more courage than most grown men he had met. Scottie also had kidney problems and he took him three times a week to dialysis. When Scottie’s health began to fail, Joe spent his off hours at the hospital. He would talk, and read to Scottie, mostly from history books, because that’s what Scottie was into, British history in particular. Scottie’s family grew to love Joe, and often told him to go home and get some rest!

Joe was reading to Scottie about Charles II, when Scottie slipped into a comma, and never returned. It was only a few days later, when Scottie was gone. Joe cried like a baby. It seemed like all the grief he had ever felt but had never let out, came to the surface, right there in the hospital waiting room. Emma was with him, and it was her love that pulled him back out of the pit of sorrow, over the next couple of weeks. Joe remained good friends with Scottie’s family over the years. He was often invited for dinner, and loved his times with them.

But over the years this type of experience occurred again, and again. Joe poured his life into people, and he was loved for it. In fact, he became the most popular, and loved bus driver in the city. He won civil service awards, and would always say, he didn’t deserve the award, he just loved helping people.

The mayor gave him the key to the city, and gave Joe a Lifetime Achievement Award, when Joe finally did need to retire because of his own health. There’s a plaque in City Hall to this day, and it says:

In Memory of Joe Cappelli

An Ordinary Man

Who Loved People

and Made a Difference


Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

The Fury in the Storm

mountain and wind

Is God in the fury,

of the winter storm?

We are used to the quiet,

the calm,

of gentle, whispering snowflakes,

you can hear the peace.

But what about the angry wind?

the howling,

and the ice stinging our faces?

the bone chilling,

life threatening cold.

I’m not a theologian,

but how can we explain,

the fury,

of the winter storm?

 Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

The White Wolves – Conclusion

white wolf looking right

Historical Microfiction About First Nations People in the 1700’s

As the young man Two Wolves, spoke with the wolf-spirits, he was amazed that they seemed to know everything about him, and that they genuinely cared about even the smallest details. The male wolf-spirit said, “It is good and right, for you to be in love with Songbird, never be ashamed of this”. The Creator cared about his love life? Tears came to the young man’s eyes, and they talked for some time.

It was dark by the time the wolf-spirits asked to talk to Standing on the Mountain. They spoke to him as the leader he was. Standing on the Mountain was not a proud, haughty leader. He was humble, and wise. The wolf-spirits complimented him and told him to continue to be the man the people needed as their spiritual leader. “Be the counselor, be the one the people turn to, for spiritual and relational matters.” “Many people will turn to you because of the wisdom you have been given”. They also mentioned that Cricket in the Meadow, would not be alive on the earth much longer. They asked Standing on the Mountain to please help Sky, and have the women of the village reach out to her, and accept her, as the new healer of the people, when the time

from pinterest
from pinterest

came. “The Creator flows through her, in a powerful way”, said the male wolf-spirit.

When it was Thunder Speaking’s turn, he was told, “There are four other Ite (pronounced Ee-teh) people still alive, and they are searching for you”. The female wolf-spirit seemed to have great compassion for the Ite. “They have just begun their journey through the Great Mountains, and will need help finding their way.” “You must help them”. She also said, “Thunder Speaking, you will be a leader of people, but not just of one group, or people of just one language.” “You are to lead people that are different from one another”. Thunder Speaking was humbled by this, but said nothing. His heart started burning for his people.

They spoke many other things to the three men together. These things included what the men did not understand, until much later, about other people groups they would see, and learn about. Some would be victims of war. They would come to seek refuge, much the way the Grie people did, and Thunder Speaking had done.

It was very dark now, but the men were not afraid. When the men heard a twig snap, they all turned to see what the noise was. They did not see anything. When the men turned back to the white wolves, they were gone! So the three of them began to walk back to the village, in the dark, guided by the light of the moon.

They were too stunned to talk about what had happened. No one knew what to say. They knew though, that the Creator knew everything, and He cared about them as well.

They each decided on their own, not to say anything about what the white wolves had said. When they arrived back at the village they were asked where the deer were that they had gone hunting for. They simply shrugged and smiled. All three of them were glad to be home.

The very next day, Redwing went into labor……

village life

Blessings to everyone, and PEACE!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

The White Wolves

from fineartamerica via google - two wolves

Historical Microfiction About First Nations People of the 1700’s

It was unusual to see a white wolf, yet alone to see two at the same time. The three men moved carefully now through the deep forest. Standing on the Mountain, Thunder Speaking, and Two Wolves, had gone out deer hunting. Now they felt hunted themselves.

In addition to be being white, the wolves were not hunting in a pack. The men could only see the two, and wolves did not hunt like that. And how did they move so quickly? Were they spirits? The men would be walking, careful to not make any noise, and see the two white images moving on their left. They would turn and speak softly to one another or make signals with their hands, and when they looked up the strange animals would be on their right. One thing was certain. They needed to turn around and turn back to the village.

The sun had not gone down yet, but the forest was getting dark. The three men got down low, and whispered to each other, conferring about what to do. They decided to go back the way they came, and quickly. They stood up to leave when the heard the first voice. “Please do not leave, we need to speak with you.” It was a woman’s voice. They looked around, saw no one, and then looked at each other. They walked briskly now, the way they came. Rounding a corner through thick trees, the three of them were shocked when they found their way blocked. The two white wolves were blocking the trail! They were also the largest wolves any of them had ever seen, at least 3 times the size of most wolves. bow and arrow

Instinctively the three men reached for their bows, but they did not draw them, or aim them. The woman’s voice spoke again, “Can we speak with you?” It came from the wolves! What choice did they have? They did not see their mouths move, but clearly the wolf on the left had spoken. The young man Two Wolves, knew something special was happening, and looked at the two men he was with. In his eyes he was pleading with them, to let him talk to the wolves. The two men nodded yes, and Two Wolves stepped forward. He was remembering another time he had experienced two wolves in the wilderness. Those wolves had not spoken to him, but he knew they had been sent to him that day. That was the day his name had changed, to what it was now.

“I am Two Wolves”, he boldly declared. The two wolves looked at each other, turned to the young man, and said at the same time, “Yes we know”. The white wolves spoke with the young man for a while, as the three men stood there. The wolves spoke, about the village, and that Redwing would have a child soon. She would be a beautiful child, that would make both of her parents very happy. They turned to the young man and said, “Two Wolves, you have an important job to do among the people”. “You are to be a peacemaker”. With that, the wolf with the woman’s voice asked the men, “May we talk to Two Wolves, alone?”

Standing on the Mountain, and Thunder Speaking were hesitant, and were considering the young man’s safety. Standing on the Mountain, asked the white wolves a question, “Are you spirits?” They did not expect the answer they received, but it did help them to relax. The female wolf said, “In a way yes.” “We have been sent from the Creator.” The male wolf also added, “It is much like when Thunder Speaking, received help from the black and white stallion”. With that the two older men backed up and felt that Two Wolves would be safe……

from Pinterest
from Pinterest

The Conclusion of The White Wolves very soon!

Blessings to you and Peace!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google, unless otherwise noted

In the Garden

 rain on roof

When I hear the rain,

pounding on the roof,

I rejoice, knowing,

 you will soon be in the garden,

planting flowers,

hands covered in dirt,

and your heart filled,

with a song,

I love your smile,

your joy,

You have never looked so beautiful,

with your old clothes on,

and your sun hat,

Eve in the Garden of Eden,

never looked so good.

When the sun caresses your cheek,

plantingI want to be there.

In the garden together,


red and yellow tulips,

always returning,

beauty refusing to die,

miniature rose bushes,


later some tomato plants,

a little mulch.

If it rains on us,

let it pour!

We can get soaked together,

laughing, and dancing,

in bare feet,

acting like school children,

throwing mud!


and falling,

in love,

all over again,

let it pour.

two in the rain

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

Love Train


The year was 1972, and the TV show was called Soul Train. I love this song! The group called the O’Jays, sings a song about countries of the world having a love for one another!

“People all over the world, join in, get on the love train, love train!”

Blessings to everyone, and PEACE!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

image from google, video from youtube


green and blue water fall

When the earth was new,

there was plenty of food to eat,

clean food,

no money involved,

and there was no fighting,

no war,

no hate.

Now we have millions,citystreet

and billions to feed,

ideas leading hate,

to kill us.

We cannot always live,


but I look forward,

I long for,

the day,

when it is all put right,

where there is clean food,

for everyone,

where love and peace,

rule on the earth.

Heal us God,

and restore us,

so we can live,


once again.

Restoration. tropical saturn

 Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

The Seeker Returns

eagle dancer

Contemporary Microfiction About First Nations People

He came down off the mountain, that afternoon, and was carrying more than just his belongings. He was thinking, and his heart was filled with questions. What was he supposed to do now? What was he supposed to do with all of the supernatural that had occurred? On the one hand his vision quest had been a huge success. He felt connected to the earth and to his people now, but what was he supposed to do with it all? How do you take feelings and put them into action?

The woman in white did give him some directions. He had a few people in mind that could teach him the old ways, or at least some of the songs. He knew, that he knew, he was to be a drummer, but he needed to learn that as well. Here he was seventeen, and he knew almost nothing of his people’s ways. He had rejected it all, for a long time. Tears filled his eyes, as he reached the old pickup at the bottom of the mountain. He threw his gear in the back, and headed for home.

And for the first time in his life he wanted to dance, but he did not know much about it – other than feeling the music, and flowing with it. As he drove the highway, he realized he was getting ahead of himself, and he thought about his time on the mountain, and the incredible peace there. He inwardly relaxed, and began to think of what to tell his father and mother. food

His parents were at the dinner table when he came in. There was some small talk, as Johnny drank some chicken broth. He was feeling weak and hungry now from all the fasting. Then he opened up, and told them everything, including seeing his Grandfather’s spirit, and the vision of the lady in white. His mother was shocked that all of this had taken place, while his father just sat there and glowed. And he told them, “I remembered what Grandfather used to call me, it was Nighthawk”. “That’s the name I want to go by”. “And I need someone to teach me the ways, the songs, maybe even the language.”

Two weeks later he was being taught after work, by Tom Crowfoot, a trusted friend and a member of the people’s council. Nighthawk thought it was unusual, but Tom started out his training by telling stories, not just any stories, but stories about, and by, his people. He started with creation, how people came into being, and how his tribe began, and then how they lived in the mountains in peace, for many years. He even told funny stories about husbands and wives. After all that was a part of life, and part of the history of the people.

nighthawk on blue“You must find out where you are from – in order to know where you are going”, was Tom’s favorite expression. There was so much wisdom in this, and in the stories. The two of them would sit outside, if the weather was nice, and carve wood, Tom while he talked, and Nighthawk while he listened.

Tom never stopped telling stories, there were always stories to tell. But after a couple of weeks he began to teach Nighthawk some songs. They flowed like a river. Nighthawk’s spirit began to soar – and it would never stop soaring. The first song they sang together, was about the eagle, and as Nighthawk closed his eyes to feel the song even more, he had a vision. He saw himself dancing – and he was dancing the Eagle Dance…….


Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google, video from youtube

Blessings to you, and PEACE!

The Long Walk


Simply going for a walk,

can cause us to reconsider,

our breathing,

can quiet the noise,

heart flowing.

Long walks,

for tough problems,

shadows dissipate,

alligators are dormant,

as we breathe in the woods,

breathing in the clouds,

the horizon becomes clear,

tension is melted,

and there is peace,

along the trails,

simply walking.

Help us to breathe again. Forest and River

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from pinterest


beautiful sinset

Do you remember the park?

It was summer back then,

asking you to marry me,

and you said yes!

blossoming, flourishing,

brightness from the sun,

causing us to grow.

For two summers,

you had a big belly!

Do you remember talking to,

and praying for the babies?

I was sure they heard us.

Later there was summer vacation,

holding the little ones by the hands,

so their feet could dance,

in the waves,

sun reflecting.

We were so alive,

but some say, that summer will end,

then comes the fall,

we are older now,

but for us there will always be,

warmth, and new beginnings,

discovering who we are.

I pray we will always live,

in the summer.

powerful ocean wave

 Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google