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Not all dome and gloom

Discussion in 'Off-Topic Forum' started by alex, Apr 15, 2016.

  1. alex

    alex DI Forum Patron Highly Rated Poster

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    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 asked. 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.








     
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  2. DaveD

    DaveD DI Senior Member Showcase Reviewer Veteran Navy

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    Darn, I think I got something in my eye... now where is my darn handkerchief
     
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  3. Show Pony

    Show Pony DI Forum Patron Highly Rated Poster Showcase Reviewer

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    The receipt could be useful if you can prove to the mayor that you voted for them when you need a favor.
     
  4. cabb

    cabb DI Forum Patron ✤Forum Sponsor✤

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    Here are a couple more feel good stories.

    John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn't, the girl with the rose.

    His interest in her had begun thirteen months before in a Florida library. Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he discovered the previous owner's name, Miss Hollis Maynell. With time and effort he located her address. She lived in New York City. He wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond. The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II. During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A romance was budding.

    Blanchard requested a photograph, but she refused. She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn't matter what she looked like. When the day finally came for him to return from Europe, they scheduled their first meeting — 7:00 PM at the Grand Central Station in New York. "You'll recognize me," she wrote, "by the red rose I'll be wearing on my lapel."

    So at 7:00 he was in the station looking for a girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he'd never seen. A young woman was coming toward him, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. He started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As he moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips. "Going my way, sailor?" she murmured. Almost uncontrollably he made one step closer to her, and then he saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl. A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankled feet thrust into low-heeled shoes.

    The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away. He felt as though he were being split in two, so keen was he desire to follow the girl, yet so deep was his longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned and upheld his own. And there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle. He did not hesitate. His fingers gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the book that was to identify him to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which he had been and must ever be grateful. He squared his shoulders and saluted and held out the book to the woman, even though while he spoke he felt choked by the bitterness of his disappointment. "I'm Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?"

    The woman's face broadened into a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is about, son," she answered, "but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test!"

    It's not difficult to understand and admire Miss Maynell's wisdom.

    The true nature of a heart is seen in its response to the unattractive. "Tell me whom you love," Houssaye wrote, "and I will tell you who you are."
     
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  5. cabb

    cabb DI Forum Patron ✤Forum Sponsor✤

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    And another.

    One night I dreamed a dream.
    As I was walking along the beach with my Lord.
    Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life.
    For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand,
    One belonging to me and one to my Lord.

    After the last scene of my life flashed before me,
    I looked back at the footprints in the sand.
    I noticed that at many times along the path of my life,
    especially at the very lowest and saddest times,
    there was only one set of footprints.

    This really troubled me, so I asked the Lord about it.
    "Lord, you said once I decided to follow you,
    You'd walk with me all the way.
    But I noticed that during the saddest and most troublesome times of my life,
    there was only one set of footprints.
    I don't understand why, when I needed You the most, You would leave me."

    He whispered, "My precious child, I love you and will never leave you
    Never, ever, during your trials and testings.
    When you saw only one set of footprints,
    It was then that I carried you."
     
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  6. Cletus

    Cletus DI Forum Adept Showcase Reviewer

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    Is this forum about chick flicks? Cause those stories would make a plot for a flick.
     
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  7. nwlivewire

    nwlivewire DI Senior Member Showcase Reviewer Blood Donor Veteran Army Navy

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    Did I miss something? I didn't read the story of the woman with the rose lapel as a chick flick thing.

    I didn't read the other stories as a dick flick thing, either.

    Do we really need to put on those distorting lenses in order to discern the writer's intent?

    Just curious, as I find this thread an enjoyable, heart-warming read - something most humans can appreciate.

    Maybe some of these stories could make a great movie storyline - for sure PG rated.

    Chick flick - dick flick. Who cares?

    V/R,
    nwlivewire
     
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  8. Dave_Hounddriver

    Dave_Hounddriver DI Forum Patron Highly Rated Poster

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    Yeah but . . . . you're a chick Rofl.gif
     
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  9. nwlivewire

    nwlivewire DI Senior Member Showcase Reviewer Blood Donor Veteran Army Navy

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    So what?

    Don't men have hearts that need warmth, too?

    What part of being human has no heart - or spirit?

    Only psychopathic ones are disconnected from empathy and joy.

    Anyway, here's a YouTube for you.

    Now THAT'S a man!

    I'm not promoting the bank - but the ad is kewl!

     
  10. OP
    OP
    alex

    alex DI Forum Patron Highly Rated Poster

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    Do the make chick flicks about 90 year old lady,s ?
     
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