Good Samaritan Stories

[Garpal Gumnut]

At first I thought a general forum was a place for lighthearted entertainment after a hard day's trading!

Seems I got that wrong ... again !

Apologies, if offended.

gagagumnut

 

[burglar]

Apologies, if offended.

gagagumnut

gg,

Don't apologise ... life is too short for endless apologies, especially as I was concerned that I had offended you first.
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This thread started out so warm and wonderful ... the original story was beautiful.

 

[pixel]

back to the topic: I received this story from an Indian friend this morning.

The Last Cab Ride
​

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. after waiting a few minutes I walked 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 neighbourhood 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.

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID ~BUT~ THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.

You won't get any big surprise in 10 days if you send this to ten people. But you might help make the world a little kinder and more compassionate by sending it on and reminding us that often it is the random acts of kindness that most benefit all of us. Thank you, ...

... and have a Splendid 2011

 

[burglar]

Mr. Anthony Clarke OAM

Anthony Clarke steps onto the mat to face his able-bodied opponent for a bout of Judo!
Brave indeed, for he is blind in both eyes.


Assisted to the podium he gazes over the crowded room, He cannot see, but his body language hints he has compensatory skills.
Exuding great confidence, he tells the story of who he is and how he came to be a Gold Medallist in the Atlanta Para-Olympics.
He tells of growing up in Kilburn and his tragic car accident that left him blind in both eyes. What would one do? Anthony decides to see Australia!
On route he learns some essentials. Truckies pick up hitchhikers for a reason. Someone to chat with and help them to stay awake. On going to sleep once, our hero was awoken when the truck ran onto the grassy verge. Finding the driver also asleep, Anthony would nudge him saying “Are you awake?” This was, Anthony says, his first stint as a motivational speaker.
He hitchhikes to Queensland where he meets Olympic swimmer, Dawn Fraser!
Swimming in crocodile infested waters he takes no chances, sending his Guide dog on ahead. He tells us the dog died many years later of natural causes.
Finding that he can participate in Judo without a change in rules, he sets about learning and training.
One day his coach tells him he is dropped from the national team because he has not contributed a single win.
Being told he would never make the national scene in Judo had a strange effect on Anthony. He did not sack his coach, but he did take on a second and then a third coach.
Subsequently he had many coaches. One was a specialist in Sports Psychology. Well, someone had to teach him visualisation skills and motivational skills. He would ask each coach in turn, until he got the answer that he wanted to hear.
“Sometimes an opponent will sneak up on me, perhaps from behind, or even from the mat, trying to grab my ankles. “I’ve got something on those people…” he says, “I know they’re scared of me!”


…~…

 

[burglar]

So many good threads here.

New members will not have seen them.
A chance to add your story.