From: "Peace Now" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Subject: The Cab Ride..An Inspirational Story
The Cab Ride..An Inspirational Story
Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. When I arrived at
2:30a.m.,the building was dark except for a single light in a ground
floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk
once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But, I had seen too
many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of
transportation.Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to
the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I
reasoned to myself.So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a
minute," answered a frail,elderly voice. I could hear something being
dragged across the floor.After a long pause, the door opened.
A small woman in her 80's stood before me. She was wearing a print
dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out
of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The
apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the
furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls,
no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a
cardboard box filled with photos and glassware. "Would you carry my
bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then
returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly
toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. "It's
nothing," I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I
would want my mother treated." "Oh, you're such a good boy," she
said.
When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could
you drive through downtown?" "It's not the shortest way," I answered
quickly. "Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my
way to a hospice." I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were
glistening. "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The
doctor says I don't have very long." I quietly reached over and shut
off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked. For
the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the
building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove
through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when
they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture
warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as
a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular
building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying
nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly
said, "I'm tired. Let's go now." We drove in silence to the address
she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent
home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came
out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and
intent, watching her every move.They must have been expecting her. I
opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman
was already seated in a wheelchair."How much do I owe you?" she
asked, reaching into her purse. "Nothing," I said. "You have to make
a living," she answered. "There are other passengers," I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me
tightly. "You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she
said. "Thank you." I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim
morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the
closing of a life.
Administrivia
I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly,
lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What
if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to
end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked
once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don't think that I have
done anything more important in my life.
We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great
moments.But great moments often catch us unaware--beautifully wrapped
in what others may consider, a small one.
PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT `YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID, ~
BUT ~THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.
************************
How do Muslims treat the elderly?
Caring for one's parents in this most difficult time(ie.old age) of
their lives is considered an honor and blessing, and an opportunity
for great spiritual growth. Allah Ta'ala asks that we not only pray
for our parents, but act with limitless compassion, remembering that
when we were helpless children they preferred us to themselves.
Mothers are particularly honored: the Prophet (sallallahu alaiyhi
wassallam) taught that 'Paradise lies at the feet of mothers'. When
they reach old age, Muslim parents are treated mercifully, with the
same kindness and selflessness. In Islam, serving one's parents is a
duty second only to prayer(salaah), and it is their right to expect
it. It is considered despicable to express any irritation when,
through no fault of their own, the old become difficult.
The Quran says: 'Your Lord has commanded that you worship none but
Him, and be kind to parents. If either or both of them reach old age
with you, do not say 'uff' to them or chide them, but speak to them
in terms of honor and kindness. Treat them with humility, and
say, 'My Lord! Have mercy on them, for they did care for me when I
was little' (Qur'an 17:23-4).
---------------------------------
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