CAB RIDE > > >>Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. > > >>When I arrived at 2:30 a.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 rear-view 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. 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. > > >> > > >> > > >> > > >> Ten things God won't ask: > > >> > > >>1...God won't ask what kind of car you drove; He'll ask how many > > >>people > > >>you > > >>drove who didn't have transportation. > > >> > > >>2...God won't ask the square footage of your house, He'll ask how many > > >>people you welcomed into your home. > > >> > > >>3...God won't ask about the clothes you had in your closet, He'll ask > > >>how many you helped to clothe. > > >> > > >>4...God won't ask what your highest salary was, He'll ask > > >>if you compromised your character to obtain it. > > >> > > >>5...God won't ask what your job title was, He'll ask if you performed > > >>your job to the best of your ability. > > >> > > >>6...God won't ask how many friends you had, He'll ask how many people > > >>to whom you were a friend. > > >> > > >>7...God won't ask in what neighborhood you lived, > > >>He'll ask how you treated your neighbors. > > >> > > >>8..God won't ask about the color of your skin, He'll ask about the > > >>content of your character. > > >> > > >>9...God won't ask why it took you so long to seek Salvation, He'll > > >>lovingly > > >>take you to your mansion in heaven, and not to the gates of Hell. > > >> > > >>10...God won't ask how many people you forwarded this to, He'll ask if > > >>you were ashamed to pass it on to your friends. > > >> > > >>Happy moments, praise God. Difficult moments, seek God. Quiet moments, > > >>worship God. Painful moments, trust God. Every moment, thank God > > >> > > >> > > >> > > >> > > >> > > >> > > >> > > >> > > >> > > >> > > >> > > > > > > > > > GEE > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
