7. Fifteen years ago, I drove a taxi for a living. One day I went to pick up a passenger at 2:40 a. m. .When I arrived there, I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute," answered a weak, elderly voice.
After a while, the door opened. A small woman stood before me. She was more than eighty years old. By her side was a big bag. When we got into the taxi, she gave me an address and then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"
"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.
"Oh, I'm in no hurry," she said.
"I'm on my way to a hospice (临终关怀医院). I don't have any family left. The doctor says I don't have very long."
I quietly reached over and shut off the meter (计程表). For the next two hours, I drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked, the neighborhood where she had lived, and the place where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she'd ask me to slow down in front of a special building and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me.
"How much do I pay you?" she asked.
"Nothing," I said.
"You have to make a living," she answered.
"Oh, there are other passengers," I answered.
Almost without thinking, I gave her a hug. She held on me and said, "You gave an old woman a moment of joy. "