Our Maltese taxi driver was a large, middle-aged woman with a warm smile. While our cases were being loaded in her boot, another driver hooted impatiently. Her car was blocking his way through the narrow street. She responded with an open-handed gesture that seemed to say, “What do you expect me to do?” His irritation did nothing to disturb her good humour.
As we drove off, she explained that many taxi drivers were paid per ride and therefore rushed to get their customers to their destinations. With eCabs, she told us, she was paid by the hour.
“No need to race,” she said, smiling. “We can go at a reasonable pace.”
On the way to the airport, she told us about her life as a taxi driver, a mother of five and a grandmother of many more. Then she announced her household rule.
“No mobile phones in my house. They all have to put them in a box at the front door. That way, I get proper conversations with them all, instead of their heads in a screen all the time!”
I was impressed and asked how she kept her grandchildren amused without screens.
“We play the old games. I draw a line in the yard and we all throw coins to see who can get closest to it.”
I pictured them gathered in the yard, absorbed in this simple competition, with their grandmother joining in. What memories those children would carry with them: the games, the laughter and the conversations, all presided over by this good-natured matriarch. I wondered how those hours together would shape the people they became.
There was something worldly-wise about her, a weariness perhaps, but also a resolute good nature. She was not blind to the faults around her. She simply seemed determined to remain loving and cheerful despite them. Another driver could hoot, the world could hurry, and her grandchildren could arrive with phones in their hands. She would still set her own pace and insist on time together.
By the time we reached the airport, we felt heartened. An ordinary taxi journey had become a reminder of how much one person can bring to the lives of those around them.
We all have choices about the kind of world we create in our own homes. Hers began with a box by the front door.
“Every child is potentially the light of the world…”
‘Abdu’l-Bahá
