One of the taxi drivers in New York wrote in his page FB:
I arrived at the address and signaled. After waiting a few minutes, I honked again. Since this was to be my last flight, I thought about leaving, but instead I parked the car and walked over to the door and knocked ... "Wait a minute," said the fragile, elderly woman's voice. I heard something dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. Little woman of 90 was in front of me. She was wearing a print dress and a hat with a veil, as if from the films of the 1940s.
Next to it was a small suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for many years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.
There was no clock on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on shelves. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
"You would not have helped me carry my bag in the car?" She said. I took the suitcase to the car, and then returned to assist the woman.
She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the car.
She went on to thank me for my kindness. "It's nothing," I said to her ... "I just try to treat my passengers the way I want them to treat my mother.»
"Oh, you're such a good boy," she said. When we got into the car, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you go through the city center?».
"It's not the shortest way, I replied quickly ...»
"Oh, I do not mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm going to the hospice. »
I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes sparkled. "My family has long gone," she said in a low voice .. & quot; The doctor says that I have left is not very long. & Quot;
I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
"What route would you like to go?" I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as a lifter.
We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She showed me a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she worked as a little girl.
Sometimes she asked me to slow down in front of a particular building or alley and sat staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
Later, she suddenly said: "I'm tired, perhaps, go now.»
We drove in silence to the address she gave me. It was a low building, something like a small resort, with road access along the way is not a large portico.
Two orderlies came to the car as soon as we arrived. They have been carefully helped her out.
They must be waiting for 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, taking her purse.
"Not much," I said.
"You have to make a living," she said.
"There are other passengers," I replied.
Almost without thinking, I bent down and hugged her, she held me tight.
"You gave an old woman a little happiness," she said, "Thank you».
I squeezed her hand, and then gone ... Behind my back door was closed, it was the sound of the closing of another book of life ...
I did not take more passengers on the way back. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if this woman got angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to fulfill her request, or the horn a couple of times, I then left?
In the end I would like to say that there is nothing more important in my life I have not done.
We are accustomed to think that our lives revolve around great moments, but great moments often catch us by surprise, beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a trifle.