God's Living Truth


I shall try to remember, Dear Lord, that
You do not send trouble my way, but
rather the strength to bear it. AMEN

A Point to Ponder....
The closest to perfection a person ever comes
is when he fill out a job application form.


 Subject: The Cab Ride!

 Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.
When I arrived at 2:30 a.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 80s stood before
me. She was wearing a print dress and
a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on
it, like somebody out of a 1940s 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 treated".
"Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.

 When we got in the cab, 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 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 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, 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.

 PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT `
YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID, BUT THEY
WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.

Zechariah 7:10 And oppress not the widow, nor the fatherless,
the stranger, nor the poor; and let none of you imagine
 evil against his brother in your heart.

1Corinthians 13:3 And though I bestow all my
 goods to feed
the poor, and though I give my
body to be burned, and have not charity,
it profiteth me nothing.

 Pass this on to all your friends and to the person who sent it to you
 as well. You won't get any big surprise in 10 days if you send it to
 ten people. But, you might help make the world a little kinder and
 more compassionate by sending it on.
 Thank you, my friend....Regenia S. for this E-Mail.




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