The Cab Ride...20 years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy's life, a life for someone who wanted no boss. What I didn't realize was that it was also a ministry. Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, & told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobles me, made me laugh & weep. But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night... I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quite part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partiers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker headed to an early shift at some factory in the industrial part of town. When I arrived at 2:30 A.M., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under such circumstances, many drivers just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door & 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 80's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress & a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of the 1940's movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the wall, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos & 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 & 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 want my mother treated," "Oh, you're such a good boy," she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Can 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 rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening. "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long." I quietly reached over & 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 works as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she & her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a 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 & would stare 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 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 & 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 & gave her a hug. She held on to me tightly. "You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you," I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me a door shut. It was the sound of a closing 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 the end of 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 of beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.. Luke 24:31 "....And their eyes were opened and they recognized Jesus." WOW! How precious! We never know what people are going through. Everything may look okay on the outside but inside they're hurting. We need to treat everyone like we'd want our mother treated. A compassionate heart touches the heart of God! Have a blessed day & be a blessing to others! God Bless! Love you!! wedding items online store sale