Getting into a taxi is like sticking your hand into a box of chocolates

The Background

I heard this story from my son-in-law, Reb Naftali Brandman — the passenger in the taxi.

IFyou’ve ever had the opportunity to spend time with an Israeli taxi driver, you know such an encounter has the potential to go in any number of directions. Will your driver be a loquacious gentleman with opinions on everything from how to win the war in Gaza to what to do about chareidim in the army? Or a morose former business owner who now spends his days ferrying people around? Getting into a taxi is like sticking your hand into a box of chocolates — you just never know what you’re going to get.

One thing I do know: It’s not very common to find a chilled-out Israeli taxi driver. But one day I got into a cab and realized this one was different. I asked him how he got this way.

“I know that I will only make the amount of money I am supposed to make, no matter what. Because I understand this simple idea, I choose to receive my money in a kosher way. It doesn’t matter if a person asks me to turn on the meter or not. Either way, I always take the fastest route for them.

“The other day a lady got into my cab. When we got to her destination, she reached into her purse to get me three twenties. I didn’t count the money on the spot, trusting that she had given me the correct amount. But a bit later, after I had already merged with the traffic and driven away, I realized instead of three twenty-shekel bills, she had mistakenly given me a twenty and two one hundred-shekel bills.

“Now I know that many drivers would have taken the money and justified the matter to themselves. To return the money, I had to make a U-turn and get stuck in traffic in the bargain. But I did all that, even though it was a real pain in the neck — because if I was supposed to get the money, it would be in a kosher way.

“Hashem paid me back literally the next day. I got a call to drive a woman to the Old City of Jerusalem. When I dropped her off, she reached into her pocketbook and handed me a two-hundred-shekel bill.

“She told me to keep the change, but I objected. We argued, but I finally accepted the money because I saw that she really, really wanted me to have it. A little later, as I was driving, suddenly it hit me. The huge tip I had just been given was the same amount I had returned to the other lady the day before.

“And that, my friend,” he summed up, “is the reason I know there is a G-d in Heaven and that He will take care of me. And because I know that, I understand that there’s no reason for me to do anything other than my best for my customers. Either way, I’ll be making the same amount of money. So why not make every person who crosses my path as happy as can be?”

When I reached my destination, I parted from him with a warm handshake, feeling like I had gained a priceless life lesson I would never forget.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1092)