Twenty years ago, I drove a taxi for a living. One time I arrived in the middle of the night for a pick up at a building that was (1) except for a single light in a ground floor window. I walked to the door and (2) .
A small woman in her 80’s opened the door. I took her suitcase to the cab then returned to (3) her into the cab. She thanked me for my kindness. When we got in the taxi, she gave me a(n) (4) , then asked, “Could you drive through (5) ?”
“It’s not the (6) way,” I answered.
“Oh, I don’t (7) ,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice (临终关怀医院).”
I looked in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were glistening (闪烁).
“The doctor says I don’t have very long.”
I quietly reached over and (8) the meter. “What (9) 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 (10) where she and her husband had lived. Sometimes she’d ask me to (11) in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the sun was (12) , she suddenly said: “I’m (13) . Let’s go now.”
We drove in (14) to the address she had given me. There were people waiting for her and they put her in a wheelchair.
“How much do I (15) you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.
“Nothing,” I said.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me (16) .
“You gave an old woman a little moment of (17) ,” she said.
I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut.
I didn’t (18) any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, (19) in thought. We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often (20) us unaware.