NYC Taxi driver story. Just have to share it.

Have you ever been to New York City and had the distinct opportunity to ride in a taxi?

If not, you certainly have missed something to be certain!

Yesterday I came across a story; one that filled me up, so much so that today I will share it here,

and it serves as a powerful reminder that

EVERY DAY IS A GIFT

and ways we can move

to pay it forward.

I've certainly been reminded of those very gifts as this page has been filled with our Warriors STOMPIN and paying it forward by taking some time to communicate here with right way relations of support and authentic caring for and about each other.

Yes my cup runneth over with love for each of you!

Oh it just makes me wanna SHOUT

and

STOMP all over the place

with joyous noise!

Can I get a witness as mamapatti says?

Let me send out some love

to Ali and her beloved Dad today;

to soldier O'Brien out in Texas fighting Cancer and needin our prayers and strength,

to EE in Colorado who is needing our strength, encouragement, and prayers, along with her beloved son CJ who is the light of her life and caregiver, now having some major health issues as well.

We are a powerful force to be reckoned with here on this page and in our Universal Connection through the Creator...

so we are STOMPING together

to let all know,

we are holding YOU and thinking about you always.

Now about those taxi's in NYC

and a man who was driving one,

and the gifts, oh those gifts of wonderment,

and joyous refrain if we but take the time, make the time; to open them.

One that we indeed get to choose to open as a delicous fragile package that can be life changing, if we but take the time.

Here's your gift for this day;

I hope you will savor it

will allow yourself to visualize it

and as for me?

I gave great thanks to the taxi driver

and his most beautiful passenger.

Here you go,

hope you are ready to

krumple a kleenex on this most remarkable day as you read his story:

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I 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..

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.

Every day IS a Gift,

enjoy yours dear hearts.

STOMP

Walk in Beauty,

DRSES

www.sherryeshowalter.com