I arrived at the address and honked
the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to
be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but inst
ead I put the car in park and walked
up 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 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 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.....Wishing
you all a wonderful weekend...
