While fly-fishing in the remote Eastern Sierra, it was just him, his neoprene waders, and a very stinky port-o-potty. When nature called, disaster struck—his keys slipped into the hole. With no choice but to wait, he patiently bided his time until another family arrived with more fishing tools, including a big spoon. Carefully and patiently, he ‘fished’ for his keys until he finally reeled them in—then spent far too much time scrubbing them clean in the river.

As a Colombian, he often faced misunderstandings—mistaken for Mexican or met with jokes about cocaine and Pablo Escobar instead of the country’s beautiful birds and rivers. Raised by a mother who instilled fear to keep him in line, he avoided drinking, smoking, or weed. But patience shaped his journey, and at 30, during his engagement party, he finally tried reefer for the first time—on his own terms.

When Jay and his wife riding their horses, got to a narrow bridge and his horse won't move, Linda wasn't quite that patient as the horse began to back up on this narrow path, at this moment Jay had to stop and really think about how scared the horse was. Flashback to himself as a child, when he was scared as a kid, sometimes he didn't always get support. So, he wanted to show his horse patience as they slowly moved across, because they believed in each other, which is what patience is all about.

During COVID, she got a Labrador puppy, whose only ‘hunt’ was finding an orange ball. One hot day, her six-month-old pup suffered heat stroke, leaving him weak and lethargic. They rushed to the ER, patiently waiting in worry—only for him to suddenly perk up, excited to see new people.

In college, Patti and her roommate Sue had a playful rivalry, each prank requiring patience—like Patti waiting silently in Sue’s closet for two hours before scaring her, or Sue lying under Patti’s bed, patiently waiting for the perfect moment to reach out and grab her arm. Both proved that the best pranks come to those who wait.

Jeff remembers Papa, who practically raised him and his brothers—his whistling was a sign of patience. His dad, too, showed patience by postponing his dream of a Corvette. Now, Jeff is learning from the men who came before him how to practice patience with his girls.

While volunteering at a museum event, Ken patiently stepped up to protect a fellow volunteer who was threatened, offering to walk him to his car. The next day, his colleagues were surprised, doubting that patience and protection could go hand in hand.

At 19, she became a single mom. Seeking direction, she went to a cabin with her dad, who urged her to focus on her daughter. Restless, she moved to a commune in San Francisco, then left to pick apples in Oregon, leaving her daughter with friends. After hitching back, they hit the road again—this time to Washington. A wrong turn on an icy road sent their car tumbling down a mountain. Stuck, she prayed and made a promise to "the gods"—from that moment on, her daughter would always come first.

Back home in Philadelphia from college, his mom questioned his Kawasaki 50. “To replace my last bike,” he shrugged. When asked to pick up his sister, she refused—but her best friend hopped on instead. A few days later, his dad struck a deal: teach him to ride, and he’d get the family’s beautiful car for the weekend. Lesson complete, he and his friends took off to New Jersey. By the time they returned, his dad was in heaven—racing kids on mopeds like a pro.

In fall 2021, his parents passed within months of each other. Devout Catholics, they weren’t afraid—his mom went while cutting flowers she wasn’t supposed to, his dad slipped in slippers his sister Gibby gave him. After their passing, he took a long ride to the Geysers, trying to process his grief. When he crashed, he waited for help—only to be rescued by a father and son, the elder struggling with dementia. Back in Petaluma, battered but reflective, he saw it not as coincidence, but a sign from his parents.