Along for the Ride

The whole family
piled into that station wagon.
Big kids sat in the middle seat,
little kids in the far back,
facing the rear.
I was one of the little kids,
just along for the ride.

I often had no idea
where we were headed.
I assumed that it probably
had nothing to do with me
because I was one of the little kids,
just along for the ride.

I knew when we got there,
there would be a hand to hold
and that if I fell asleep
on the way home,
someone
would carry me inside
because I was one of the little kids,
just along for the ride.

Staring out the back window,
I’d watch the world go by.
I’d see the places
the rest of them
had already been.
I was a little kid
in a big family,
content (mostly) to be
just along for the ride.

By Maria Brady-Smith
Photo by Francis Scheidegger