Daily Bread

[what's brewing: Is your cup running over? ]

I find taxi drivers to be some of the most interesting people to talk with. They usually have photos of their children displayed on the dashboard, along with other décor that serve as good conversation pieces. They often listen to the radio throughout their shift, so they are great sources for information about local happenings and big news stories, especially brewing protests and strikes. Since they spend most of their day alone, they usually seem eager to engage in conversation if given the opportunity.

I have been surprised by the number of taxi drivers who have university degrees or professional training but turned to driving a taxi when low employment rates made it impossible to find work in their field. They, like the majority of people in the country, are struggling to make ends meet. Their hours are long and their wages are low, but they do what they can to get by.

I have never seen a taxi with more than a quarter tank of gas – most commonly the gauge is resting on ‘Empty’, stretching the gas mileage of their little cars to the limit. It is not uncommon to be asked for payment early as a driver pulls into a gas station and puts in only the amount of gas that your fare can cover.

I think of this often when I pray for more understanding of what it means to pray for daily bread.

Many drivers shoo away beggars who peer into the windows of the car and plead for money, acting on behalf of their client in the back seat. Drivers silently ignore the less obtrusive beggars that populate the intersections, just as their passengers most often do. There seems to be an understanding that the drivers are in need themselves – beggars should not approach them for donations they way the approach the drivers of private cars.

Yesterday I experienced something that made a significant impact on me. As I was heading to the post office, my taxi driver stopped at a red light (only after several of the cars in front of us ran through it). A young woman stood on the median, holding the hand of her blind father. They both stood with their hands extended, silently asking for contributions to help meet their needs. I busied myself looking aimlessly through my bag – my way of dealing with the uncomfortable feeling of being stared at in the still moments of an intersection. The sounds of the outside world suddenly got louder and I looked up to see my driver lowering his window, signaling the young girl to come near. He pulled some change from his ash tray (the ‘piggy bank’ in most taxis) and placed it in her hands with the simple words, “God bless you.” And we pulled away, back into the chaos of traffic.

I cannot say for certain, but I feel it is safe to presume this driver was giving out of what he does not have. A few minutes earlier he had asked for early payment as we pulled into a gas station; he used three of my five coins to pay the bill. And then gave at least a portion, if not all, of the remaining amount away to this young woman. I felt the sting of pride and selfishness as I remembered the way I had just busied myself to avoid eye contact while this man lowered his window and gave out of his own need.

Since then I have been praying these words over and over:

Lord, keep my heart tender and aware of the needs around me. Give me eyes to see this world as you do and wisdom to discern what you are asking of me in each situation. Give me this day my daily bread; use me and the resources you’ve given me to provide daily bread for those around me.