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	<title><![CDATA[SpiritualFamily.Net: Comments on Random Acts of Kindness - Taxi Driver &amp; The Old Lady&#039;s Trip to end a Life]]></title>
	<link>https://spiritualfamily.net/stream/comments/39050</link>
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	<guid isPermaLink="true">https://spiritualfamily.net/blog/view/39050/random-acts-of-kindness-taxi-driver-the-old-ladys-trip-to-end-a-life</guid>
	<pubDate>Tue, 06 Jul 2021 20:59:00 -0400</pubDate>
	<link>https://spiritualfamily.net/blog/view/39050/random-acts-of-kindness-taxi-driver-the-old-ladys-trip-to-end-a-life</link>
	<title><![CDATA[Random Acts of Kindness - Taxi Driver &amp; The Old Lady&#039;s Trip to end a Life]]></title>
	<description><![CDATA[<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #4B0082;"><span style="font-size: 28px;">Random Acts of Kindness</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #800080;"><span style="font-size: 20px;">Taxi Driver &amp; The Old Lady&#39;s Trip to end a Life</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #4B0082;"><span style="font-size: 28px;"><img alt="" height="36" src="https://spiritualfamily.net/images/Bars/Bar-arch-01.png" width="560"></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="108" src="https://spiritualfamily.net/photos/thumbnail/39039/master/" width="280"></p><p style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="241" src="https://spiritualfamily.net/photos/thumbnail/39047/master/" width="422"></p><p><span style="font-size: 18px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400;">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.. &#39;Just a minute&#39;, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="701" src="https://spiritualfamily.net/photos/thumbnail/39036/master/" width="526"></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;"><img alt="" height="599" src="https://spiritualfamily.net/photos/thumbnail/39037/master/" style="float: left; margin: 12px;" width="400">After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90&#39;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&#39;s movie.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">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.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">box filled with photos and glassware.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">&#39;Would you carry my bag out to the car?&#39; she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">She kept thanking me for my kindness. &#39;It&#39;s nothing&#39;, I told her.. &#39;I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.&#39;</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">&#39;Oh, you&#39;re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, &#39;Could you drive</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">through downtown?&#39;</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">&#39;It&#39;s not the shortest way,&#39; I answered quickly..</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">&#39;Oh, I don&#39;t mind,&#39; she said. &#39;I&#39;m in no hurry. I&#39;m on my way to a hospice.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. &#39;I don&#39;t have any family left,&#39; she continued in a soft voice.. &#39;The doctor says I don&#39;t have very long.&#39; I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">&#39;What route would you like me to take?&#39; I asked.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">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.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">Sometimes she&#39;d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, &#39;I&#39;m tired. Let&#39;s go now&#39;.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">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.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">They must have been expecting her.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">&#39;How much do I owe you?&#39; She asked, reaching into her purse.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">&#39;Nothing,&#39; I said</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">&#39;You have to make a living,&#39; she answered.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">&#39;There are other passengers,&#39; I responded.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">&#39;You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,&#39; she said. &#39;Thank you.&#39;</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">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..</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">I didn&#39;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?</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">On a quick review, I don&#39;t think that I have done anything more important in my life.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">We&#39;re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID ~BUT~THEY WILL</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">FEEL.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">At the bottom of this great story was a request to forward this - I deleted that request because if you have read to this point, you won&#39;t have to be asked to pass it along you just will...</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">Thank you, my friend...</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin-top: 5.0pt; margin-right: 36.0pt; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt;"><span lang="EN-US">Righteousness strikes the harmony chords of truth, and the melody vibrates throughout the cosmos, even to the recognition of the Infinite.</span><span lang="EN-US"></span></p><p style="margin-top: 5.0pt; margin-right: 36.0pt; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt;"><a href="https://mm.spiritualfamily.net/Urantia_Book-Online_Reader-2019/Paper_156.html#156:5.15" target="_blank"><sup>156:5.15</sup></a> As the days pass, every true believer becomes more skillful in alluring his fellows into the love of eternal truth. Are you more resourceful in revealing goodness to humanity today than you were yesterday? Are you a better righteousness recommender this year than you were last year? Are you becoming increasingly artistic in your technique of leading hungry souls into the spiritual kingdom?</p></blockquote><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11.0pt;">&nbsp;</p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11pt; text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="728" src="https://spiritualfamily.net/photos/thumbnail/6602/master/" width="1648"></p><p style="margin: 0in; font-size: 11pt; text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="111" src="https://spiritualfamily.net/images/Bars/Bar-00-break-c.png" width="1000"></p>]]></description>
	<dc:creator>Paul Kemp Administrator</dc:creator>
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