Twenty years ago, I drove a taxi for a living. This is the life of a cowboy, the life of a man who doesn't want a boss. What I didn't realize was that this is also a Ministry. Because I work the night shift, my taxi has become a mobile confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind me, completely anonymous, and told me about their lives. I met some people whose lives surprised me, made me lofty and made me laugh and cry.

Twenty years ago, I drove a taxi for a living. This is the life of cowboys, the life of those who don't want to have bosses. I didn't realize it was also a kind of priest-like duty. Because I changed my night shift, my taxi became a mobile advertising car. When the passengers got on the bus, they all sat behind me anonymously and told me about their lives. I met some people by chance. Their life surprises me, makes me respect, makes me happy and makes me cry.

But what moved me the most was a woman I met late at night in August.

However, no one touched me more than a lady I picked up in the evening of August.

I am answering a phone call from a small brick house in a quiet part of town. I thought I was sent to pick up some parties, or someone who had just had a quarrel with my lover, or a worker who went to a factory in the industrial area of the town for the early shift.

I am answering a phone call from a quiet small brick apartment building in town. I'm surprised to be sent to pick up some social regulars, or people who have just quarreled with their lovers, or leaders who work early shifts in a factory in the industrial zone of the town.

When I arrived at 2:30 in the morning, the building was dark except for a light in the first floor window. In this case, many drivers just honk their horns once or twice, wait a while, and then drive away. But I have seen too many poor people rely on taxis as their only means of transportation. I always walk to the door unless there are signs of danger. I said to myself that this passenger might need my help. So I went to the door and knocked.

When I arrived at 2: 30 in the morning, the whole building was dark except for a little light from the first floor window. In this case, many drivers may just honk their horns once or twice, wait for a minute, and then drive away. But I have met many poor people who only rely on taxis as their means of transportation. I usually open the door unless the form smells dangerous. This passenger may be the same as those who need my help. I will give myself reasons. So I knocked on the door.

"Wait a minute," a weak, old voice replied. I can hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A little woman in her eighties stood in front of me. She is wearing a printed dress and a cylindrical hat with a veil, just like someone in the movie 1940s. There is a small nylon suitcase next to her. This apartment looks as if no one has lived in it for years. All the furniture is covered with sheets. There is no clock on the wall and no knickknacks or utensils on the counter. There is a cardboard box in the corner, which is full of photos and glassware.

"Wait a minute," a weak, old voice replied. I can hear something being dragged on the ground. After a long pause, the door was opened. I saw an 80-year-old lady standing in front of me. She is wearing a calico skirt and a small flat-topped hat with a veil, like a character in a movie in 1940. Next to her is a small nylon suitcase. The house looks as if no one has lived in it for years. All the furniture is covered with sheets. There are no clocks on the wall, and there are no knickknacks and appliances on the cupboard. The carton in the corner is full of photos and glassware.

"Can you help me take my bag to the car?" She said. I took my suitcase to the taxi and came back to help the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly to the side of the road. She has always thanked me for my kindness. "Nothing," I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I want my mother to be treated." "Oh, you are such a good boy," she said. When we got into the taxi, she gave me an address and asked, "Can you drive through the city?" "This is not the shortest way," I answered quickly. "Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I am on my way to the hospice hospital. "

"Can you help me carry my luggage to the car?" She said. I put my luggage in the taxi and then went back to help the lady. She took my arm and we walked slowly to the side of the road. She has always thanked me for my kindness. "You're welcome," I told her. "I just treat every passenger like my mother." "You are a good boy," she said. After we got on the bus, she gave me an address and asked me, "Can you drive through the city center?" "It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly. "Oh, I don't mind." She said, "I'm in no hurry. I just want to go to a nursing home. "

I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes sparkled. "I don't have any family," she continued. "The doctor says I won't live long."

I saw her eyes glistening with moisture in the rearview mirror. "I have no family," she continued. "The doctor says I won't live long."