My family and I live in a school bus. We travel around the country running our small business and doing odd jobs. We see all sorts of people from the homeless to the well to do. Everyday is an experience in humanity. We are in a unique position to see people in a raw way. The way people look at us and treat us says a whole lot about them. This summer showed us a whole lot about how wonderful and generous people can be. It was a beautiful experience within a series of tragedies.
When things are darkest it is our job to be a light. My family is a wide network of people I have met in my travels. We all have the same code, everywhere we are we do our best to spread a small amount of light into the world. We provide meals, blankets and rides when and where we can. We know the more light we spread the more that there is in the world. This way of living helps to fuel us in the darkest times when all hope seems lost. When we are cold and hungry, we know we will be fed and warm.
We were in Southern Oregon working the hemp harvest when the wildfires hit. The fires came up from California, down from Portland and east from Medford/Ashland. It was surrounding us except for the ocean. Everyday moving slowly towards us. The air was thick with smoke. Everyday it was harder and harder to breathe. We could have fled, many people did. Not us we knew there was something we could do about it. Somehow, we could help. So, we stayed, like we always do and always will. We stayed and helped with what little we could.
The fires displaced 100s of people. Lots of people showed up to help, my family and friends included. We provided a hot meal, beverages and distributed donated materials. Because of our lifestyle travelling to different cities in the area and providing hot meals and other necessities was simple.
I watched the community open its doors. They used community centers and churches as places to house people. We all did the best we could to make things better and to give where we could. We might not have much but everything we have we are willing to share. I was proud of this community and of our small part in making a difference.
Watching humanity in its finest form was uplifting, especially during the pandemic. So many people had been so afraid for so long. Then they where without a home. Everything they had worked their whole lives for had been lost. There was no place to shelter, there was no food. Helping to provide any comfort and support during this time allowed me to serve along side people who believe as I do. That humanity is at its best when it is ruled by kindness and compassion. When we think of others as people, no better or worse than we are. Knowing people reflect ourselves and sharing in their pain and loss. Providing what small comfort, we can. Kindness for the sake of kindness itself. Not because of how it looked or to get something in return, being kind because you feel compassion is the purpose of human connection and community.
There are so many challenges that we face as people from the relationships in our lives to natural disasters. Remembering for a few minutes that there is something greater. Seeing something larger than ourselves and that it connects us to each other gives me hope. Everyone calls it something different, but we all come together just the same to get things done when people are hurting. We are here to spread light in the darkness, and we will.
About the Creator
Laura Carlock
I'm a mom, live in a school bus and work farms. I read Tarot, perform guided meditation and teach basic lessons. I love writing short stories both fiction and non. I would like this platform to be a place I can share my work.
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More stories from Laura Carlock and writers in Humans and other communities.
A taste of fate
Running… That is all she knew, running… There was only the fear and the run. She could not stop, her chest ached there was not enough air. She could not slow to catch her breath, or they would be on her. Who “they” where was not clear in her fogged brain but the thought filled her with such deep dread her legs just kept on. There was no choice. Brambles cut her legs; tree branches slapped at her.
By Laura Carlock5 years ago in Futurism
The CEO of Everything
They say "jack of all trades, master of none," but they forgot to mention the part where the jack of all trades is also the camera woman, the makeup artist, and the person currently yelling at a tangled Wii microphone cable in a her own bathroom while recording herself singing and trying to make it look realistic and professional. (As professional as you can make it with nothing but a cell phone camera and a mic that doesn't work)
By Sara Wilson4 days ago in Humans
Hard Work or Talent?
In a small town surrounded by dusty roads and silent fields, two boys grew up with the same dream—to become the best runners their country had ever seen. Their names were Ayaan and Rohan, and from the outside, their lives seemed similar. They attended the same school, ran on the same broken track, and dreamed under the same open sky. Yet the paths they took, and the lessons they would teach the world, were very different. From an early age, Rohan was known as “the gifted one.” He ran faster than everyone else without much effort. Teachers praised him, classmates admired him, and coaches spoke about him with pride. His stride was smooth, his breathing calm, and his victories came easily. People said he was born to run. Talent, they believed, lived in his blood. Ayaan, on the other hand, was ordinary. He ran slower, tired faster, and often finished near the back. No one applauded his efforts. No one called him special. But Ayaan had something few noticed—an unbreakable determination. While others went home after practice, Ayaan stayed. While others rested on weekends, Ayaan trained alone. He believed that if talent was a gift, then hard work was a choice—and he chose it every day. As the years passed, the difference between them grew clearer. Rohan continued to win local races with ease. Because success came naturally, he trained only when required. “Why push so hard when I’m already the best?” he often thought. He enjoyed praise and believed talent would always carry him forward. Ayaan’s journey was much harder. He woke up before sunrise, running through empty streets while the world slept. His legs ached, his lungs burned, and doubt often whispered in his mind. There were days he wanted to quit, days when progress felt invisible. But each time he stumbled, he reminded himself of one truth: effort never lies. Even when results are slow, work is never wasted. Their first major competition came in high school—a regional championship that attracted scouts and professional coaches. Rohan entered with confidence. Ayaan entered with quiet focus. When the race began, Rohan surged ahead effortlessly, while Ayaan stayed behind, steady and controlled. As expected, Rohan won. The crowd cheered his name, and reporters asked about his “natural ability.” Ayaan finished far behind, unnoticed and exhausted. That night, Rohan celebrated. Ayaan trained. Time moved on, and both boys entered a national sports academy. Now the competition was tougher. Everyone was talented. Everyone was fast. For the first time, Rohan met runners who were as gifted as he was—some even more. Suddenly, talent alone was not enough. Training sessions became brutal. Discipline mattered. Consistency mattered. Rohan struggled. He wasn’t used to pushing past comfort. When training became painful, he slowed down. When coaches criticized him, he felt offended. “I’ve always been the best,” he told himself. “Why should I suffer like this?” Ayaan, however, felt at home in struggle. Pain was familiar to him. Discipline was his companion. While others complained, he listened. While others skipped sessions, he showed up. Slowly, almost invisibly, he began to improve. His times dropped. His endurance increased. His confidence grew—not from praise, but from proof. Years later, the two met again at a national championship—the kind that could decide careers. Rohan was still talented, but inconsistent. Ayaan was not the fastest on paper, but he was reliable, focused, and mentally strong. The race was long and demanding. Halfway through, Rohan pushed hard, relying on his natural speed. But as fatigue set in, his form broke. Doubt crept in. He had never learned how to fight exhaustion. Ayaan ran differently. He paced himself. Every step reflected thousands of unseen hours. When his body begged him to stop, his mind answered, “Keep going.” One by one, he passed runners who had relied only on talent. In the final stretch, Ayaan surged ahead—not because he was born faster, but because he had trained his body and mind to endure. He crossed the finish line first. The crowd roared, surprised by the name they barely knew. Rohan finished far behind. For the first time, he understood a painful truth: talent opens doors, but it does not keep them open. After the race, Rohan sat alone, staring at the track that once felt so easy. Ayaan approached him, offering a quiet smile—not of pride, but of understanding. “I always thought talent was everything,” Rohan admitted softly. Ayaan shook his head. “Talent is a spark. Hard work is the fire.” Years later, Ayaan became a respected athlete and mentor. He taught young runners that success is built when no one is watching. Rohan, too, changed. He learned discipline late, but sincerely, discovering that talent grows only when watered by effort. The world often debates hard work versus talent, as if one must defeat the other. But the truth is simpler and deeper. Talent may give you a head start, but hard work decides how far you go. Talent can shine once—but hard work shines every day. In the end, the most powerful force is not what you are given at birth, but what you are willing to build through patience, pain, and persistence. Because talent may impress—but hard work transforms.
By The best writer 2 days ago in Humans
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