This has been around before but worth another read.
The Cab Ride
I arrived at the address and honked the horn.
After waiting a few minutes 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 90'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 1940's 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 and 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 in a soft
voice.. '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,
and 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.
You won't get any big surprise in 10 days
if you send this to ten people.
But, you might help make the world a little kinder
and more compassionate by sending it on
and reminding us that often it is the random acts of
kindness that most benefit all of us.
Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for a while and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same.
The Cab Ride
I arrived at the address and honked the horn.
After waiting a few minutes 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 90'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 1940's 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 and 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 in a soft
voice.. '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,
and 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.
You won't get any big surprise in 10 days
if you send this to ten people.
But, you might help make the world a little kinder
and more compassionate by sending it on
and reminding us that often it is the random acts of
kindness that most benefit all of us.
Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for a while and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same.
