This I Believe- The personal philosophies of remarkable men and women

My basic belief about this (inner faith) is that I don’t like to ride in taxicabs. Does that sound silly? Let me put it this way. Life is a journey; it’s a ride from here to there. You step out of a door and you go to a door. There’s a clock ticking in front of you that measures off your time. You are charged with that time. You don’t know ‘til the end of the trip what the charge will be. You step out of the cab and say good-bye to the driver, or you just walk way, that’s all, the end of the trip.
How can this be a faith – not to ride in taxicabs? Let’s consider the alternatives. You can ride in a cab, or you can ride in a subway. What about the subway? There, at least you’re not alone. You get on the train, people bang into you, the train buckles and rolls, and the air is bad, it doesn’t smell good, but life is going on there, and life doesn’t smell good either. Yet somehow, it’s wonderful.
In the car, there are lots of people, all kinds. Wholesome people, beautiful people, and sick, miserable, depressed people. Maybe you hear the squeak of some horrible music, a blind old woman with a disfigured face is led through the car by a little girl. The old woman is playing a mouth organ. People drop pennies in a tin cup the little girl holds up. Wedged in the corner of the car is a half-witted person babbling to himself. All these are a part of life – our comrades, our fellow wayfarers. Riding in a taxicab, one lacks of company.