A Cab Driver Named Adolf

“All men dream, but not all equally.
Those who dream by night, in the dusty recesses of their minds,
wake to find it was all vanity.
But the dreamers of the day are dangerous,
for they may act their dreams with open arms and make things happen.”

- T. E. Lawrence (a.k.a. ‘Lawrence of Arabia’)

Last January, I was in Chicago as part of a comedy 'sketchfest' - comedy troupes from around the country coming together to make people laugh, steal each others jokes, and generally have a good time playing. Our first show was what could politely be called 'less than fully triumphant', and rather than stick around and face it like a man, I went skulking off in a cab to visit a friend.

To my delight, within moments of entering the cab it began to snow. Now I don't know about you, but I LOVE the snow. Growing up in New England, snow meant sleds, skiing, snowmen, and on a good day, school being cancelled. When I shared my delight with the cab driver, he glared at me with a look of contempt normally reserved for people you've known for years. After a few moments of silence, no doubt spent considering the relative merits of throwing me out of his cab to enjoy the snow I was so fond of 'up close and personal', he began to talk.

His name was Adolf, and he came from Ghana. He had come to America in 1991 to make his fortune and take care of his family. Thirteen years later, he was driving a borrowed cab seven days a week, three hundred and sixty five days a year. The money sent home each month enabled his family to live well. His mother owned her own home; his brother and sister were able to finish the equivalent of high school. But Adolf had not been back.

A few months earlier, his mother asked him to come home to visit for Christmas. He told her he would love to but it would mean he wouldn't be able to send money for a few months. She never brought it up again. Adolf wanted me to know he was a Christian, and his great shame that he was living with was that he had spent Christmas day out in the snow hustling fares instead of in church giving thanks.

Yet through it all, he had a dignity and pride about him that dared me to feel sorry for him. When I asked him what his big dream was, I thought he was going to kill me.

He got that look in his eyes people get when they see their big dream a million miles away in their minds eye then wipe the slate clean before anyone can notice the slight smile forming on the corner of his mouth.

"I don't have a dream," he said firmly.

"I don't believe you," I replied, equally firmly.

By now the snow was beginning to stick to the sidewalks, and Adolf pulled the car over to the side of the road. Any thought of visiting my friend was long forgotten. I was in the back of that cab for a reason. Heck, I had pretty much proved I wasn't in Chicago to make people laugh.

"Everyone has a dream", I continued. "But sometimes those dreams are so scary that we won't admit them - not even to ourselves."

He was watching me in his rearview mirror intensely.

"Here's the way I've had it explained to me. It starts with an inkling - a sense that there must be something more to life than getting up and going to the same boring job day after day after day."

He nodded his head in agreement, so I carried on.

"Then, if you start to pay attention, the dream starts to take shape. But you’ve got to at least be open to it – if you won’t even acknowledge it, sooner or later it’s going to stop hanging around and move on.”

Adolf went quiet again, then he spoke.

“I have a dream,” he began. “My dream is to learn to build houses the way American’s build them. The houses in Ghana are not strong. I want to go back to Ghana and build houses for my village. Then I would know that I had made a difference. And everything else that I have had to endure would be OK – it would have all been worthwhile.”

There were tears in both our eyes – something I’ve noticed is quite common when someone first acknowledges something they’ve been keeping hidden from everyone, including themselves. And then he sat a little taller in his seat, and we both knew it was time to move on.

I’d like to say the story has a happy ending, and report that Adolf is now apprenticed on a building site, or enrolled in architecture school, or even back in Ghana working on a new home for his family.

But the truth is, I don’t know what’s become of him. I just know the difference he made to me that night in his cab.

I have developed an unshakeable faith in the power of other people’s dreams. I know they can come true. And while I still question my own dreams from time to time, in the dusty recesses of my mind, I know that the most important thing I can do is continue to dream them, until one by one, they disappear from my imagination and reappear, fully manifest, in the world around me.

 

Here are some of my favorite resources for making a difference by living your dreams:

Books and Audio Programs

*The Dream Giver by Bruce Wilkinson

*The 8th Habit by Stephen R. Covey

*The 7 Myths of Success (audio program)by Michael Neill

*Unstoppable by Cynthia Kersey

Related Tips

Members of the Solutions Café may also enjoy these tips…

*Building Your Own Cathedral

*The Big Dream

*Finding Personal Meaning in a Crazy World

*The Stockdale Paradox