This is an astounding story that was initially posted on Facebook. It is a touching lesson on being patient – you HAVE to read it, it will change how you think.
A NYC Taxi driver wrote:
I arrived at the location and honked the horn. In the wake of waiting a couple of minutes I honked once more. Since this would have been my last ride of my work day I thought simply driving away, however I put the car in park and went to the door and knocked… ‘One moment’, answered a person with elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged over the floor.
The door opened after a long pause. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil on it, similar to someone out of a 1940’s movie.
There was a little nylon bag by her side. The apartment looked as though nobody had lived in it for quite a long time. All the furniture was covered with sheets.
There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner there was a cardboard box loaded with photographs and glassware.
She asked if I would carry her bag out to the car. I took the bag to the taxi, then came back to help the woman.
She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.
She continued expressing gratitude toward me for my kindness. ‘It is nothing’, I told her… ‘I simply try to treat my passengers the way I would like my mom to be treated.’
‘Oh, you are such a good boy’, she said. When we got in the taxi, she gave me a location and after that asked, ‘Would you be able to drive through downtown?’
‘That is not the shortest way,’ I answered rapidly…
‘Oh, I do not mind,’ she said. ‘I am in no rush. I am on my way to a hospice.
I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were shimmering. ‘I do not have any family left,’ she proceeded in a soft voice….’The doctor says I do not have long.’ I discreetly reached over and shut off the meter.
‘What course would you like me to take?’ I asked.
For the following two hours, we drove through the city. She demonstrated to me the building where she had once worked in as a lift operator.
We drove through the area where she and her spouse had lived when they were newlyweds. We went in front of furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a young lady.
From time to time she would ask me to slow in front of a specific building or corner and would sit gazing into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the skyline, she quickly said, ‘I am tired. Let’s go now’. We drove peacefully to the location she had given me. It was a low building, similar to a small convalescent home, with a driveway that went under a portico.
Two orderlies came out to the taxi when we pulled up. They were caring and attentive, keeping a close eye on her. They must have been waiting for her.
I opened the trunk and took the small bag to the door. The woman was at that point seated in a wheelchair.
‘How much do I have to pay you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.
“Nothing,” I said
‘You need to make a living,’ she replied.
‘There are more passengers,’ I responded.
Without thinking, I bent and gave her an embrace. She held onto me firmly.
‘You gave an old lady a little moment of happiness,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
I pressed her hand, and after that went into the faint morning light. Behind me, the door closed. It was the sound of the end of a life.
I did not get any more passengers that shift. During the rest of that day, I could scarcely talk. Imagine a scenario in which that lady had gotten an angry driver or one was impatient to finish his shift. Consider the possibility if I had declined to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
If I think better, I do not feel that I have done anything more crucial in my life.
We are adapted to imagine that our lives revolve around extraordinary moments.
In any case, great moments frequently get us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.