Ten Centimeters from the Curb
The engine hummed steadily in the vast, hot expanse of the driving practice yard. A thirty-seat bus reversed slowly toward the curb, its long body making every slight turn of the steering wheel critical. The driver did not look straight ahead but constantly checked the rearview mirror, carefully estimating the distance between the tires and the edge of the road.
This was the final examination after a rigorous course of study. From the beginning to the end of the term, the student had strictly followed every instructed maneuver, relying on discipline rather than luck. One of the most difficult tasks was reversing this large vehicle to park flush against the curb. According to the rules, both the front and rear wheels must remain within fifteen centimeters of the edge; any wider gap could result in point deductions or failure.
In previous practice sessions, that fifteen-centimeter limit had become a familiar boundary. Each time looking through the mirror, the student patiently adjusted the vehicle to meet exactly that measure. Not farther, but also not closer. With such a long vehicle, even a slight excess of greed for precision could cause the rear tire to hit the curb or the body to skew, ruining the entire operation at the last minute.
Before entering the exam, the instructions on accuracy still echoed in the mind: “Just do exactly what you practiced. Both front and rear wheels must stay within the allowed range.” The student tightened their grip on the wheel, reminding themselves: “I only need to maintain fifteen centimeters. I should not take risks.”
The bus began to reverse. The foot controlled the brake gently, allowing the heavy frame to drift backward slowly. Through the mirror, the curb line became clearer bit by bit. The student turned the wheel, corrected the angle, and checked the rear tires again. Every movement felt familiar and smooth, just like the dozens of times performed during the course.
An observer standing nearby spoke up: “Keep your hands steady, go slowly.” The student kept their eyes fixed on the mirror: “I am maintaining the exact distance we practiced.” “Do not rush,” the observer warned. “With a long vehicle, even a slight deviation means the front and rear will no longer be parallel.” “Yes, I know,” the student replied. “I am aiming for exactly fifteen centimeters.”
The tail of the bus approached its position. The distance was nearly perfect. Only one small adjustment remained before stopping safely and completing the test as done many times before. The student prepared to align the vehicle neatly, with no intention of showing off or attempting a tighter margin.
But at that precise moment, something unexpected happened. The hand holding the steering wheel suddenly nudged forward slightly. It was a tiny movement, yet so distinct that the student immediately realized it was not part of their plan. Consequently, the bus moved five centimeters closer to the curb. The intended fifteen-centimeter gap shrank to ten.
The student’s heart tightened. With the rear tires now closer, if the front remained in place, the body would not be straight. There was no time for confusion; they had to quickly adjust the front of the vehicle to match the new distance. “The rear is too close!” an observer noted. The student remained calm: “I see it. Now I must bring the front into alignment.” “Be careful,” came the warning. “Too close and you might hit the curb.” “I will adjust very slowly,” the student promised.
The hand turned the wheel again, this time fully alert and intentional. The large bus crept forward inch by inch. The front tires gradually aligned until both sets rested on a single straight line, each exactly ten centimeters from the curb. The body stood perfectly parallel, close to the edge without touching it.
When the engine stopped, the tension in the yard seemed to dissolve. Those standing nearby looked from the front to the back of the bus, exchanging surprised glances. Keeping both front and rear tires evenly ten centimeters from the curb in a thirty-seat bus is an exceptionally difficult feat. “You drive beautifully!” someone exclaimed. Another stepped closer to inspect and said, “Front and back are both exactly ten centimeters. Achieving this is not easy.”
Although praised, the student did not feel entirely happy about the achievement. As their hand left the wheel, their gaze lingered on the narrow space between the tires and the curb. They knew clearly that they had only intended to keep fifteen centimeters, as always. That extra five-centimeter nudge was not a calculated decision, nor was it ambition to show off driving skills.
This became a persistent question: why did the hand move unexpectedly at the decisive moment? The final result was beautiful and admired by all, yet the person who performed it could not claim full credit. From this small incident in the testing yard, a profound reflection emerged. People often believe they control everything: having studied well, practiced thoroughly, and calculated correctly, they assume the outcome will follow their will. Yet sometimes, just a slight twitch of the hand, a second of distraction, or an unexplained reaction is enough to change the situation entirely.
In this instance, the change brought a good result. The tires stood ten centimeters from the curb, straighter and more elegant than planned. But this experience taught the student that humans do not always have complete mastery over their own actions. If an unintended movement occurred on a busy street, around a curve, or while speeding, the consequence might not be praise, but a heartbreaking accident.
The exam concluded, and the bus pulled away from the tight parking spot. Yet the mystery remained for a long time, serving as a reminder to stay humble and cautious. No matter how skilled one’s technique, it is never a reason for arrogance. Drivers must remain mindful in every moment, cultivating the mind and praying for safe journeys for themselves and everyone else.
The Meaning of the Story
We should not be arrogant enough to believe we always control every situation. When driving, beyond skill and adherence to laws, we must keep the mind clear, humble, and careful, always wishing for peace and safety for all beings.
AI-assisted translation from the Vietnamese original.
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