[Hank's Mail]A Bus Named Happiness

Dear all,


Good morning!

Last Sunday evening I had a surely unforgettable opportunity to view the News Magazine 2580 on channel MBC. It was about a happy bus driver, Mr. Byungzong Lee. Mr. Lee is quite popular among the regular passengers on Bus Route 640 because he always tries his best to make his passengers happier by offering soothing comments to tired or angry passengers, reaching out a helping hand to senior citizens carrying heavy baggage, or turning on the right popular songs that fit into various situations. His passengers are happy because Mr. Lee is there and he is happy as well because they are there.

He used to be just like us, grabbing a provoking passenger by the throat or raising his voice against annoying passengers, until one day he realized the misery of his daily life as a bus driver. At that moment a spiritual awakening struck him like a flash of lightning that he must give others pleasure, joy and happiness should he wish to be pleasant, joyful and happy.

You may recall the saying in Luke 6:31, “… And just as you want men to do to you, you also do to them likewise.” and that in Matthew 7:12, “… Therefore, whatever you want men to do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.”


Like Mr. Lee’s belief, we should do unto others as we would have them do unto us. Tonight on my way to a dinner appointment I will hop on a bus to commingle with beautiful minds instead of gliding in a car by myself.

Have a wonderful weekend!

Hank


[A Smart Burglar]


A man walked into a Louisiana Circle K, put a $20 bill on the counter, and asked for change. When the clerk opened the cash drawer, the man pulled a gun and asked for all the cash in the register, which the clerk promptly provided. The man took the cash from the clerk and fled, leaving the $20 bill on the counter. The total amount of cash he got from the drawer...$15. (If someone points a gun at you and gives you money, is a crime committed?)


[A Cab Driver]


Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy’s life, a life for someone who wanted no boss. What I didn’t realize was that it was also a ministry. Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional.


Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, and made me laugh and weep. But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night.


I responded to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partygoers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory in the industrial part of town.


When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, and then drive away. But I had seen too many poor people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation.


Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needed my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.


“Just a minute,”answered a frail, elderly voice.


I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knick-knacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.


“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, and then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.


“It’s nothing,” I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated.” “Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, and then asked, “Could you drive through downtown?” “It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly. “Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.”


I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening. “I don’t have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have very long.” I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. “What route would you like me to take?” I asked.


For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She has me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.


As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.”


We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were attentive, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.


“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse. “Nothing,” I said. “You have to make a living,” she answered. “There are other passengers,” I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.


“You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you, dear.” I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.


I didn’t pick up any more passengers on that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once and then driven away?


On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done very many more important things in my life. We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware ?beautifully wrapped in what others may consider small ones.


행복이란 이름의 버스


여러분, 안녕하십니까?


지난 일요일 밤 엠비씨 채널에서 시사매거진 2580을 볼 기회가 있었는데 그것은 참으로 잊지 못할 방송이었습니다. 어느 행복한 버스 기사 이병준씨에 관한 것이었습니다. 이씨는 항상 지친 승객이나 화난 승객에게 위로의 말을 건네거나 무거운 짐을 들고 타는 노인을 거들어 주거나 각종 상황에 꼭 들어 맞는 유행가를 틀어주거나 함으로써 자신의 승객들을 행복하게 해주려고 최선을 다하기 때문에 640번 버스를 애용하는 승객들에게 인기가 많습니다. 이씨의 버스를 타는 승객들은 이씨가 있기 때문에 행복하고, 그 역시 그들이 있기 때문에 행복하답니다.


옛날에 그는 화를 돋구는 승객의 멱살을 잡거나 귀찮게 구는 승객에게 고함을 지르는 등 우리와 꼭 마찬가지였습니다만, 어느 날 버스 기사로써 자신의 이러한 하루 하루가 비참하다는 것을 깨달았습니다. 자신이 즐겁고, 기쁨을 가지고 싶고 행복해지고 싶으면 남에게 즐거움과 기쁨과 행복을 줘야만 한다는 깨우침이 그 순간 전광석화처럼 그의 머리를 스쳤던 것입니다.


여러분은 아마 누가복음 6장 31절의 “남이 너희에게 해주기를 바라는 대로 너희가 먼저 남에게 해줘라.” 하는 구절과 마태복음 7장 12절의 “남에게 대접받기를 바라는 대로 너희도 남을 대접하라. 이것이 진정한 율법의 가르침이요, 예언서의 정신이다.” 하는 구절을 기억하실 겁니다.


이씨의 신념처럼 우리는 남이 우리에게 해주기를 바라는 대로 우리도 남에게 그렇게 해야만 할 것입니다. 오늘 밤 저녁 약속에 갈 때는 나 혼자 차를 타고 가는 대신에 아름다운 사람들과 어울리기 위해 버스를 타야겠습니다.


즐거운 주말 되시기를 빕니다!


행크



[머리 좋은 강도]


어떤 남자가 루이지애너주에 있는 한 ‘써클 케이’ (*역자주: 편의점 이름)에 들어와 카운터에20불 지폐를 내놓고 잔돈으로 바꿔 달라고 했습니다. 점원이 금전 등록기를 열자 그 남자는 총을 꺼내 들고 금전 등록기에 있는 현금 전부를 달라고 했으며, 점원은 즉시 현금을 모두 줬습니다. 그 남자는 카운터에 20불을 남겨 둔 채 점원으로부터 받은 현금을 가지고 달아 났습니다. 그런데, 그 남자가 금전 등록기에서 꺼내 받은 돈은 모두 15불이었습니다. (만약 어떤 사람이 당신에게 총을 겨누며 돈을 준다면, 그건 범죄인가요?)


[어느 택시 기사]


20년 전 나는 입에 풀칠을 하기 위해 택시를 몰았습니다. 그것은 누구 밑에 있기를 원치 않는 사람에게 맞는 삶이란 점에서 카우보이 같은 삶이었습니다. 내가 깨닫지 못했던 것은 그것이 또한 목사직이 될 수 있다는 것이었지요. 나는 밤에 운전하는 조에 속했기 때문에 내 차는 움직이는 고해성사실이 되었습니다.


승객들은 차에 올라 타 내 뒷좌석에 앉아 완전한 익명 아래 그들의 인생에 대해 말했습니다. 나는 날 깜짝 놀라게 하는 사람들이며, 날 고귀하게 느끼게 해주는 사람들이며, 날 웃게도 하고 울게도 하는 사람들을 만났습니다. 하지만, 어느 8월 저녁 늦게 내가 태웠던 부인이 가장 인상 깊습니다.


나는 타운 내 한적한 지역의 벽돌로 지은 작은 4가구 주택으로부터 전화를 받고 차를 몰고 갔습니다. 나는 파티에 가는 사람들이나 방금 연인과 다툰 사람이나 타운 내 공장 지역의 어떤 공장에 새벽조로 출근하는 일꾼을 태우러 가는 줄로 알았습니다.


오전 2시 30분. 내가 도착했을 때 그 건물은 일층 창문에서 흘러 나오는 한줄기 불빛을 제외하고는 캄캄했습니다. 이런 경우 많은 기사들은 한 두 번 클