Estoy en semana de exámenes y ando hasta arriba de trabajo pero no quería dejaros sin el soy fan de la semana que, al menos para mí, suele servir para recuperar la fe en la humanidad. Así que os dejo con una historia sobre una taxista que encontré aquí
As seen on Facebook. (posted by Homestead Survival)
A sweet lesson on patience.
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 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 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.
Ellos me hablan de crisis económica, de recortes, de apretarse el cinturón. Me explican que ,aunque en los últimos 10 años mi familia nunca se ha ido de vacaciones y hemos sufrido lo nuestro para pagar nuestra casa, aparentemente hemos vivido por encima de nuestras posibilidades. Me explican que la subida en las tasas universitarias, con la consecuente reducción de becas que puede hacer imposible estudiar a muchas personas que ya tienen una situación complicada, es una medida dolorosa pero necesaria, al fin al cabo ¿quién necesita estudiar si no hay quien te contrate de todas formas?. Me cuentan que el copago sanitario es un hecho, pero que no me preocupe, que no es un paso atrás sino un paso hacia el futuro y que además, los únicos que dejan de tener cobertura sanitaria serán esos inmigrantes, que total, casi no son ni personas. 
compañeros no eran muy cooperativos y además no conocía a nadie en la ciudad, pero eso no la amínalo. Drea llegaba antes que nadie y se iba la última, incluso empezó a ir al trabajo en sus días libres para practicar con la cámara, y evitar cometer errores. Por si su situación laboral no fuera ya lo suficientemente complicada, sobra decir que los jugadores de fútbol americano y sus entrenadores no eran muy receptivos al hecho de tener que lidiar con una mujer. Muchos de ellos se negaban a hablarle o darle entrevistas, hacían comentarios ofensivos y dificultaban su trabajo todo lo que podían. Pero todo eso no le impedía ser una buena profesional. Uno de los momentos que más recuerda es su primera entrevista en directo con un jugador de fútbol. El jugador había accedido a darle la entrevista tras el partido y esta tendría lugar en los vestuarios. Cuando Drea entró allí tras el partido, la situación se descontroló bastante: los jugadores dejaron caer sus toallas, hacían comentarios obscenos o intentaban tocar a Drea y solamente 10 segundos antes de entrar en el aire, el jugador al que estaba entrevistando le dijo “Después de esto vamos a tener sexo”. La situación sería más que suficiente para desestabilizar a cualquiera, pero Drea sonrió, se recompuso e hizo su entrevista como si no pasara nada. Cuando le preguntan porqué, ella lo tiene claro “Yo le debo información a la gente que está en casa, yo respondo ante ellos y pase lo que pase tengo que ser profesional”.
