February---The Month of Love
February is the month associated with flowers, candies, cards, special dinners and various other items to help us express our love to someone important in our lives. A special day is even set aside for that purpose, we call in Valentine’s Day and economists tells us that it is among the top 5 days when it comes to money spent for a specific occasion. Although we all have those special people in our lives that we see daily, I invite you to remember that special, or those special people that had a life changing effect on you and take the time to Thank God for bringing them into your life---much life in the story below.
The Cab Ride
Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. When I arrived at 2:30 p.m., the building was dark except for a single light, in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would 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 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 80’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like someone 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 was no clocks on the wall, 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 car, 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 try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated”. “Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said. When we got in the car, she gave me an address, 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 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 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 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 done dancing as a girl. Sometimes she’d ask me to slow down 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 curb 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 passenger,” I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug, she held 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 evening 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 drove 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 make them feel.
Happy Valentine’s Month to EVERYONE!!!!!
Fr. Merlin Schrad