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This will make you think

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Well-known member
Feb 14, 2005
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got this email from Doc Harris, he said it will make it hard to see the computer, he was right.


Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. When I arrived at
2:30.am., 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

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 somebody 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 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 rear-view 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.

Ten things God won't ask:

1.God won't ask what kind of car you drove; He'll ask how many people you drove who didn't have transportation.

2.God won't ask the square footage of your house, He'll ask how many people you welcomed into your home.

3.God won't ask about the clothes you had in your closet, He'll ask how many you helped to clothe.

4.God won't ask what your highest salary was, He'll ask if you compromised your character to obtain it.

5.God won't ask what your job title was, He'll ask if you performed your job to the best of your ability.

6.God won't ask how many friends you had, He'll ask how many people to whom you were a friend.

7.God won't ask in what neighborhood you lived, He'll ask how you treated your neighbors.

8.God won't ask about the color of your skin, He'll ask about the content of your character.

9.God won't ask why it took you so long to seek Salvation, He'll lovingly take you to your mansion in heaven, and not to the gates of Hell.

10.God won't ask how many people you forwarded this to, He'll ask if you were ashamed to pass it on to your friends.


Well-known member
Feb 10, 2005
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ennis, montana
how right you were, sw!! the computer screen was, indeed, a tad blurry toward the end!!! A precious, priceless lesson for all of us!!


Well-known member
Oct 27, 2005
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NW Panhandle Texas
Thank you.
Having lost a friend yesterday morning to liver cancer I see he lived that to its fullest.
I am going to send this on to his widow in hopes it brings her some comfort. Kinda hard to comfort a woman who has just lost her "soul~mate" of 17 years.


Well-known member
Sep 24, 2005
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east of dad's old place.
Great way to make a person stop and think whether they are truly doing for God or just themselves. Maybe another set of the 10 commandments, cowboy style :!: :wink: :wink: :roll: :!:

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