A New York Cab Driver Tells A Story - TRY NOT TO CRY

A New York Cab Driver Tells A Story - TRY NOT TO CRY

new York taxi driver

 As soon as I knocked, I heard a frail old voice say, "Please, just a moment!" Through the door, I heard what appeared to be being dragged across the floor of the house.

It took a while before the door finally opened. In front of me stood a little old lady, probably 90 years old. She was wearing a floral print dress and one of those veiled pillbox hats you used to wear. Her entire appearance looked like she had stepped out of a 1940s movie. In her hand, she held a small nylon case. Since the door was open, I could now peek into the apartment. The apartment looked as if nobody had lived here for years. All furniture was covered with towels. The walls were completely empty - no clocks hung there. The apartment was almost completely empty - no knick-knacks, no dishes on the sink, I only saw something around the corner. A box that was probably packed with photos and some glass sculptures.

"Please, young man, will you carry my suitcase to the car for me?" she said. I took the suitcase and put it in the trunk. I went back to the old lady to give her a little help walking to the car. She took my arm and together we walked towards the sidewalk to the car.

She thanked me for my willingness to help. "It's not worth talking about," I answered her, "I simply treat my passengers the same way I would treat my mother!"

"Oh, you really are a model young man," she replied.

When the lady sat down in my taxi, she gave me the destination address, followed by the question of whether we could drive through the city center.

"Well, that's not the shortest way, actually a considerable detour," I pointed out. "Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm not in a hurry. I am on my way to a hospice.”

"A hospice?" flashed through my mind. shit man There terminally ill people are cared for and accompanied while dying. I looked in the rearview mirror, looked at the lady again.

"I leave no family behind," she continued in a soft voice. "The doctor says I don't have very long." I switched off the taximeter. "Which way should I take?" I asked.

taxi drivers in the night
For the next two hours, we just drove around town. She showed me the hotel where she used to work at the front desk. We drove to different places. She showed the house where she and her late husband had lived when they were "a young, wild couple". She showed me a modern new furniture store that used to be "a hip joint" for dancing. As a young girl, she often danced there.

At some buildings and streets, she asked me to drive very slowly. She then said nothing. She then just looked out the window and seemed to take another trip with her thoughts. The first rays of the sun came over the horizon. Did we really drive through the city all night? "I'm tired," said the old lady suddenly. "Now we can drive to my destination."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me that evening. I had imagined the hospice to be much larger. With its mini driveway, it looked more like a small friendly holiday home. However, it was not a salesman who rushed out of the building, but two hurrying paramedics who, as soon as I had stopped, opened the passenger door. They seemed very concerned. They must have been waiting for the lady for a very long time. While the old lady sat in her wheelchair, I carried her suitcase to the hospice entrance.

"How much are you getting from me for the ride?" she asked while rummaging in her purse. "Nothing," I said.

"You must earn your living," she replied. "There are other passengers," I replied with a smile. And without thinking twice, I hugged her. She held me very tightly.

“You gave an old woman a little bit of joy and happiness on her last few meters. Thanks,” she said to me, eyes glassy.

I squeezed her hand and walked towards the dull sunrise... The door of the hospice closed behind me. It sounded like the end of life to me.

My next shift should have started now, but I wasn't accepting any new passengers. I just drove aimlessly through the streets - completely lost in my thoughts. I didn't want to talk to or see anyone. What if the woman had run into a rude and grumpy driver who just wanted to finish his shift quickly?! What if I hadn't accepted the ride?! What if I just drove away after the first honk?!

When I think back on that ride, I don't think I've ever done anything more important in life. In our hectic lives, we attach great importance to the big, bombastic moments.  It's the little moments, the little gestures, that really count in life.

We should take our time again for these small and beautiful moments. We should be patient again - and not honk immediately - then we'll see them too.

love sign

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