Today I got to thinking about all the times in my life.....I tend to get nostalgic around the time of my birthday each year.....that I didn't do something for someone that I thought of doing. If all my "WISHES" to help someone else were fishes then no one would have to go hungry, ever. I feel shame over this part of myself. I really do.
When my children were born I usually had more food brought to my house than we could use. The food was from people who cared about me and understood what it is like to have a newborn to care for. There have also been many times when I have pulled over to the side of the road for one reason or another and had someone stop to ask if I needed assistance.
I have many people in my life who have done things for me "just because".....just because I wasn't feeling well, just because I was depressed, just because they were thinking of me.....and on and on.
Lately I've been going through something physical that has been very, very difficult and my beloved husband has been one of those people who really has stepped "up to the plate", to use a baseball term. I went out to get the mail a few days ago and there, by my door was the most lovely bouquet of flowers!!! It wasn't an anniversary or a birthday or any special day that he should have remembered, it was a day that he knew I was suffering and he wanted to make it better. He didn't just sit at his desk and THINK about it, he DID IT!
I really am a caring person inside and want to make sure that I follow through with my "Kindness Thoughts". I know that I'll try to make an excuse to myself if/when my thoughts go undone in the future, but I hope I'm much more aware now.
Today, a friend of mine posted this to Facebook and you may have already read it and cried a thousand tears, as I did....but this is a prime example of doing the right thing at the right time. I hope you enjoy it as it is intended....that we may each "PLAY IT FORWARD IN KINDNESS" because you never know how it will affect another....
Hugs to all, Janie
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 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, and 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.
