It Doesn’t Meter

The week of Hod in our continuing count of the Omer is characterized by confronting limits, acknowledging them and surrendering.  This week is seen as a balance to the prior week when we looked at how we could and would overcome obstacles in our process of change. An element of Hod though is not just surrendering to a particular obstacle and how that impacts our changing—it is also surrendering to a process that is larger than us. We may think that a particular outcome is what is called for and it may well be—perhaps now or at a later time. But as we move to create change we may become aware of a larger puzzle—within ourselves or how we are connected with others. The following story, forwarded to me by Louann Miller, helps us begin to see a cab ride in a different light—for who is the driver and who is the passenger?

 

It doesnt meterI arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up 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 90’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 to be treated.’

‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and 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 in a soft voice. ‘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, and then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

0 Comments

Leave a Reply

Avatar placeholder

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Related Posts

connecting at woolworth storefront greensboro ga

Connecting at Woolworth’s

by Melanie Gruenwald   On Monday, I stepped into an Uber in North Carolina, with a lovely driver who was warm and welcoming. I am on my first business trip since 2015—with great anticipation and

Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny with his wife Yulia in Moscow, Russia, in September 2013. (AP/Evgeny Feldman)

Convicted: Aleksei Navalny

by Dr. David Sanders Both criminals and saints are convicted and both may wind up in prison. The criminal is convicted for their anti-social or illegal behavior. The saint is convicted of their strongly held

dragons eye

The Other Trap

by Dr. David Sanders A response to Rabbi Irwin Kula’s Trapped in Trauma: Transcending the Dragon’s Gaze   I have a traveling companion who I have never planned a trip with, let alone visited anywhere

Koby Gruenwald

A New Redemption Song, in memory of Koby

by Melanie Gruenwald January 19, 2018- the 3rd day of the Hebrew month of Shevat, my 13 year old son, Koby, died from a glioblastoma (brain tumor). Koby brought me to Kabbalah Experience. We began

image of land divided by a river setting context

Out of Context

by Dr. David Sanders As students of Kabbalah we strive to become adept at “taking” things out of context. Mastery of metaphor, seeing the parallels between the abstract and the concrete underlies our spiritual awareness.