The One With The Cab Driver
Posted by Everywhere and Here on Sunday, March 18th, 2007 @ 9:08 pm in Personal - Philippines.
I take cabs these days when I’m in a hurry and have extra cash. Since selling my car last January, my daughter and I have learned to… embrace the ubiquitous tricycles, jeepneys and buses of Metro Manila. We’ve also become the official recipients of free rides from friends when mutual destinations permit, and even when they don’t.
My mobile phone’s ‘Sent’ folder is filled these days with - “where you?’s”, “where you headed?’s”, and “what time you heading home?’s”.
One morning I woke up slowly and decided I could afford to take a cab that day. So I leisurely went through my morning routine and prayed I would find a cab in the middle of the morning rush. My answer came in the form of a neighborhood taxi queue. As I arrived, the dispatcher pointed with his lips to the designated cab that was next in line.
“Where to, ma’am?”, asked the burly, shaven haired, dark complexioned driver as I opened the door.
“Just across Market Market at the Every Nation Building,” I smiled.
I’m famous to my friends for being chatty with cab drivers. I guess it’s because I feel sorry for them for not having people to talk to all day or all night. So I make it a point to strike up little conversations. Sometimes they’ll reciprocate, albeit monosyllabic, but mostly in reaction to the fact that some strange woman is talking to them.
So this particular morning I did my usual small talk routine. Midway through our conversation, I noticed the driver was tuned into the classical music station, DZFE. Violin and cello strains filled the cab.
“You like classical music…?” I asked in Tagalog.
“I love it!”
“Wow. Really? Who are your favorite… composers? Or artists?” I was curious what he would say.
“I don’t really know any of them, ma’am. I just like listening to them. It’s sad that this station is only on until midnight every night. I just can’t get enough of it.” He smiled, “The sad thing is that I can only listen to it while I’m in this cab. At home, my roommates listen to loud hip-hop and hate it when I try to tune in to this.”
“Hmmm. I think they’re the ones who are missing out.” I encouraged. “It’s very rare for me to meet people who actually enjoy this kind of music! So… you’re part of a very select group of people”, I smiled.
“I just really like this music, ma’am.”
“Now, if you actually knew who these great men were, it would open up a whole new realm of possibilities for you…” I thought to myself.
I arrived at the office with a humbling reminder to never judge appearances. And as I sit here listening to the Classical Genre on my iPod, I am reminded of the power of how my words and very life could be the only symphony for others to see Jesus in me. That the strains my life produce can actually cause people to either want to hear more of the Composer of my life, or run away because I am a cacophony.
I pray, that like that cab driver that morning, people will be drawn to my Composer and the symphony that is my life, even without knowing who He is yet.
