I still remember the day a bus driver changed my life.
My son, my daughter, and I were getting off the city bus as we had done so many times before. As we started to leave, the driver stopped me. He smiled and said, “Keep your head up.”
I smiled and asked, “What do you mean?”
He said, “I’ve been watching you. I’ve watched you with your children. I’ve watched how you carry yourself. You’re a good mother. God sees the hard work you’re putting in. He sees the sacrifices you’re making. Don’t give up.”
I couldn’t hold back the tears.
That bus driver had no idea what was happening in my life. He didn’t know about the financial struggles, the long workdays, the nights I wondered how I would make ends meet, or the prayers I whispered after my children had gone to bed. Looking back, I believe God used that moment to remind me that I wasn’t forgotten. I wasn’t invisible. I was never unseen by God.
For years I was a single mother raising a son and a daughter. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I was simply trying to give my children the best life I could. Some seasons were harder than others, but every morning I got up, went to work, came home, and did it all again because my children were depending on me.
Transportation was one of my biggest challenges. In some of the cities where we lived, there wasn’t even a bus system, so I walked to work. Rain or shine, hot or cold, I walked because staying home was never an option. In other cities, we rode the city bus everywhere we needed to go. At first I was embarrassed because I didn’t have a car. Eventually I stopped worrying about what other people thought. My focus became providing for my children, not protecting my pride.
Money was tight. There came a time when I swallowed my pride and applied for assistance with our household bills. Walking into that office wasn’t easy. I had always worked hard. I wasn’t asking someone else to take care of my family. I simply needed a little help during a difficult season.
I was told I didn’t qualify.
As I was leaving, one of the workers looked at me and said, “It isn’t my fault that you can’t pay your bills.”
I walked away shocked, hurt, and angry. It had taken everything in me to ask for help, only to leave feeling worse than when I walked in.
Please don’t misunderstand me. I have nothing against government assistance. Earlier in my life, I received food stamps and TANF, and those programs helped my family when we truly needed them. I will always be grateful for that season. At the same time, I prayed that one day I would no longer need assistance. I asked God to help me become a good steward of my finances and to place me in a position where I could one day help other single parents.
Not long afterward, I did something else that was difficult.
I asked my mother for help.
I had convinced myself that asking for help meant I wasn’t strong enough. My mother had always been a strong woman, and I wanted to be just like her. I didn’t want to burden her.
She didn’t hesitate.
She helped me without making me feel ashamed or guilty.
That moment changed me forever. I realized there is strength in asking for help. It doesn’t make you weak. It takes courage to admit you cannot carry every burden alone. I also learned that if you never ask, people never have the opportunity to help.
During those same years, I homeschooled my son from ninth through twelfth grade and later homeschooled my daughter from tenth through twelfth grade while working full time. Our days were full of lesson plans, homework, meals, laundry, work responsibilities, and everything else that comes with raising children.
After helping my children with school, I often opened my own laptop and completed assignments for my college classes. One class became another. One semester became another. Eventually I earned my college degrees. I wanted my children to see that faith, perseverance, and hard work mattered more than the obstacles standing in front of them.
Then came one of the happiest moments of my life.
In December 2017, a coworker told me about a car salesman. I explained that I couldn’t afford another monthly bill because my budget was already stretched. He told me that if I could save $2,500, he would help me buy a car.
I started saving every chance I could.
When income tax season arrived in 2018, I finally had enough money.
I bought my first car.
It was a 1998 Lincoln Town Car with one previous owner. It was clean, well cared for, and beautiful to me. I wasn’t the best driver at first, but I didn’t care because it was mine.
People often asked if I wanted to sell it because they admired how well it had been kept. I always smiled and told them no. It wasn’t just my first car. It represented every mile I had walked, every bus ride, every prayer, every sacrifice, and every time I refused to quit.
When my children saw it, they were so excited. I took a picture and sent it to my mother. She congratulated me, and I sat there thanking God. Not because I finally owned a car, but because He had carried me from walking to driving.
Today my children are adults. When I look back, I remember God’s faithfulness more than I remember the hardships. I remember a bus driver who reminded me to keep my head up. I remember my mother teaching me that asking for help isn’t weakness. I remember a God who never left me.
Those experiences gave me a heart for single parents. I know what it feels like to work hard and still struggle. I know what it feels like to wonder how everything will work out. I also know that difficult seasons do not last forever.
If you are a single parent reading this, I want you to know that your sacrifices matter. Your children are watching. God is watching. Do not be afraid to ask for help when you need it. One day you may discover, just as I did, that strength is not found in doing everything alone. Strength is found in trusting God every step of the way.
Keep your head up.
God sees every sacrifice.
He hears every prayer.
He has not forgotten you.
You are never unseen by God.
About the Author:
Shelly Lee is an author, speaker, and author coach who helps aspiring writers move from calling to clarity through her signature 5P Method™: Pray, Plan, Pen, Proof, and Publish. As a single mother who overcame financial hardship through faith, perseverance, and determination, she now inspires others to trust God’s timing, embrace their journey, and turn their stories into books that leave a lasting legacy. Shelly is the founder of Pen.Paper.Publish and lives in Beaumont, Texas.
