Wednesday, November 17, 2010

The Cab Ride

Many of you have been reading my blog for some time now and I am very happy to be able to share my bears and my life with you all. You might remember that I mention dancing as often as you can, and dance like no-one's watching too. My other motto is do everything to music and I have posted wonderful videos in this respect. 

Well, today I received a really special email and one we can all take to heart and learn from.  I was particularly impressed that there was no threat at the end... you know the ones, "Send this to 10 people or else". So I wanted to share it with all of you...Have a wonderful day and take a moment for someone else today, tomorrow and every day.


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, and 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 to be
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 neighbourhood 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 post this on your blop. 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.
Thank

you, my friend...

Life

may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as

well dance.

Here is one of the things I have done to share my time and believe me, I got just as much out of this night as they did. My Mother In Law and I visited this home and taught a free craft class. She taught and supplied the wreaths and I taught the LET IT SNOW hangers. We gave our time and supplied all needed for FREE. It was so much fun and as you can see, everyone ended up with a wonderful Christmas wreath or hanger for their apartment doors. Many of them still use these and some have now left us but I am positive that  the fun we had that night was one of the things they brought with them.






2 comments:

  1. That was really BEAUTIFUL, Michele! Thank you for sharing!
    Warmly,
    Cheryl

    ReplyDelete