I was driving home when I noticed a small girl on a school bus beating on the back glass in panic. My entire universe came to a standstill. Something was wrong. But what risk might a young kid face on a safe school bus? I pursued the bus to find out, but my heart skipped a beat.

As I drove home, the rain pounded my windshield, matching the sorrow in my heart. This had to be the worst day of my life. First, my fiancé canceled our wedding last week, and now I’d lost my job. My head was a jumble of ideas and feelings…

“Stay calm, Mollie,” I muttered to myself, white knuckles on the driving wheel. “There has to be another way. If one door closes, another will open, correct?”

However, the words seemed empty. How could I return home and tell Mom that I had lost my job?

She would worry herself ill. I was hesitant to disappoint her, as she had been my pillar of support since my father’s passing.

My phone vibrated for the fifth time. Mom again. I drove to the curb and responded.

“Yes, Mom, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” “I’m driving.”

“Mollie, honey, did you see the weather forecast? A large storm is approaching. Please take care.”

I swallowed hard. This storm was minor compared to the one raging within me.

“Don’t worry. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Is everything alright?” “You sound off.”

“I am OK, Mom. I am just… exhausted. I have to drive, okay? “I love you,” I said before hanging up.

How could I tell her I had lost my job just for speaking up to the bosses? They’d used the excuse of “not meeting quarterly targets,” but I knew the actual reason.

“What’s the worst that could happen now?” I mumbled as I pushed the vehicle back into drive.

Little did I realize that I was about to find out.

As I returned to traffic, a yellow school bus roared past me. Something grabbed my sight in the rear window: a small girl with her face plastered against the glass and her little hands banging furiously. She cried out for aid.

“What the…?” Oh, my God… Is she alright? I gave a gasp.

Without thinking, I revved the engine and raced after the bus. The toddler was obviously distressed, but why? What risk may she face on an apparently safe school bus?

“I’m coming, sweetie,” I murmured, blasting my horn many times.

The bus driver appeared clueless, driving along the road as if nothing was happening. Panic rose in my chest, and I made a snap choice. I drove around the bus and cut in front, bringing it to a halt in the middle of the busy road.

The driver, a large man with a thick black mustache, rushed out. “What sort of trick are you performing, lady? “You could have caused an accident!”

I ignored him, raced by, and boarded the bus. The cacophony struck me like a wall. The children gathered around her, yelling and laughing.

I dashed to the rear, where the small girl sat alone, her face now flushed and tear-stained. As I approached her, I froze. This was not what I anticipated at all.

“Oh my God! Are you experiencing an asthma attack?

The tiny girl nodded furiously, her chest heaving as she battled to breathe. I kneeled next to her seat, my heart pounding.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” I inquired, attempting to keep my voice quiet.

She pointed to the ID card that hung around her neck. Her name was Chelsea.

“Okay, Chelsea, we’ll get you aid.” Where is your inhaler?”

Chelsea shook her head, unable to communicate. I looked up and saw that the driver had followed me, his face pallid.

“Do you know where her inhaler is?”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t even realize she was experiencing problems. It’s so noisy back here that I can’t hear anything.”

I choked back an irritable response and began searching Chelsea’s backpack. Nothing. Panic gripped my insides as I noticed the tiny girl’s lips turn blue.

“Help me look!” I yelled at the driver.

We looked underneath the seats, along the aisle, and anywhere else we could think of. To my astonishment, I noticed the other kids were laughing, with some even pointing at Chelsea.

“This isn’t funny!” I snapped at them. “She needs help!”

That’s when it struck me. I started snatching all of their backpacks, despite their objections.

“Hey, you can’t do that!” A freckle-faced youngster shouted.

I found it in the third suitcase I checked: a blue inhaler with Chelsea’s name on it. I rounded on the boy who owned the backpack.

“Why do you have this?”

He turned aside and said, “It was just a joke.”

“Is this a joke?” “She could’ve died!”

I dashed back to Chelsea and helped her use the inhaler. Her breathing gradually became more regular, and the color returned to her face. I held her hand and said calming words as she recovered.

The driver stood there wringing his hands. “I’m very sorry. “I had no idea.”

I turned to him, my rage rising. “These children are your responsibility! You should have investigated what was going on when you heard a disturbance!”

He nodded with guilt on his face. “You’re correct. “I am sorry.”

Chelsea tugged at my sleeve, her words barely audible. “Thank you.”

Those two sentences struck me harder than everything else I had experienced that day. I could not leave her alone after this.

“I’m staying with you until we get you home, okay?”

Chelsea nodded, a faint grin on her tear-stained face.

I turned to face the driver. “I’m going to move my car and ride with her. “Is that okay?”

He nodded swiftly. “Of course.” “It is the least we can do after… well, everything.”

As I stepped off the bus to take my car to the neighboring parking lot, I noticed my hands trembling. What a day it turned out to be.

Back on the bus, I sat next to Chelsea, a soothing arm across her shoulders. The other children were unusually silent, fully immersed in the gravity of what had happened.

“Why didn’t the other kids help you?” I asked softly.

Chelsea’s bottom lip quivered. “They find it humorous that I can’t breathe. Sometimes they hide my inhaler.

My heart breaks for her. “That isn’t okay, Chelsea. Do you know that?”

She nodded and looked down at her hands. “I try to be brave, but sometimes I get so scared.”

I squeezed her shoulder. “You showed incredible bravery today. You grabbed my attention when you needed assistance. That requires a tremendous deal of bravery.

Her lips formed a faint grin. “Really?”

“Really,” I said, “you are one of the bravest people I’ve ever met.”

Two stops later, Chelsea gestured to the window. “That’s my mommy and daddy!”

Chelsea’s parents came over to greet us as we got off the bus, their expressions filled with uncertainty.

“Chelsea, who is this?” her mother said, her gaze wary.

Chelsea’s voice became louder as she added, “This is Mollie. “She saved my life.”

Chelsea’s parents’ responses ranged from surprise to appreciation to anger at the bus driver, the other kids, and the event as a whole.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Chelsea’s father remarked through tears.

“I’m just glad I was there to help.”

Mrs. Stewart, Chelsea’s mother, insisted on taking me back to the vehicle. As we arrived in the mall parking lot, the heavens opened up and rain fell in sheets.

“So, Mollie,” Mrs. Stewart asked me over the rain-streaked window, “what do you do?”

I gave out a sour laugh. “It’s amusing that you inquire about my job loss today.”

Mrs. Stewart’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, I’m awful to hear that. Can I inquire what happened?”

I sighed as the events of the day washed over me again. “I spoke up about several unethical acts. They didn’t like it, so they devised a reason to let me leave.”

Mrs. Stewart was silent for a minute. Then she said, “You see, my husband and I own a little business. We might have an opening. Would you want to come in for an interview?

I squinted, unsure whether I had heard her right. “Are you serious?”

She grinned. “Absolutely. Anyone who will go to such lengths to help a youngster in need is someone I’d like to have on my team.”

As we approached my car, the rain had reduced to a sprinkle. Mrs. Stewart handed me a business card.

“Call me tomorrow,” she stated. “We’ll set something up.”

I held the card, a flicker of hope starting in my chest. Thank you. “I will.”

The next morning, I felt lighter than I had in weeks. I told Mom everything that had happened. Concerns include job loss, Chelsea preservation, and potential new opportunities.

She had held me tightly, pride showing in her eyes.

“I’ve always known you’re destined for greatness, darling!”

As I rang the number on Mrs. Stewart’s card, my pulse raced again, but with excitement rather than terror.

“Hello, Mollie,” Mrs. Stewart said softly over the phone. “I’m so delighted you phoned. How do you feel about coming in for an interview this afternoon?

I couldn’t stop the grin that grew across my face. “I would love to. Thank you very much for the chance.

“No, Mollie,” she answered, and I could hear the grin in her voice. Thank you. You saved our daughter. “This is the least we can do.”

As I hung up the phone, I felt tears well up in my eyes. But for the first time in a long time, the tears were ones of joy rather than despair.

I was overjoyed and recognized that it is true: When God closes one door, He always opens another. And sometimes that new door takes you to places you never dreamed of.