The one about the taxi driver who helps hold the universe together

Muhammad the taxi driver really needs to pee.

He glances at me in the rearview mirror, apologetic, and asks if we can stop by a gas station.

“No problem,” I tell him.

He pulls over, switches off the meter, and hurries inside. A few minutes later he’s back, a little breathless, smoothing his shirt as he settles into the driver’s seat.

“Sorry,” he says, turning to me. “I haven’t had a moment to stop all day.”

As he speaks, he picks something up from the front seat and drapes it casually over the headrest. It’s bright orange, impossible to miss: a United Hatzalah jacket.

“Between rides, I volunteer,” he explains, almost sheepishly. “And I’ve had to stop a few times today…”

United Hatzalah of Israel is Israel’s volunteer-based emergency medical service, a network of medics who rush to scenes of heart attacks, car crashes, or terror attacks, often arriving within minutes on scooters called ambucycles. The volunteers come from every part of Israeli society — Jews, Arabs, religious, secular — bound together by that mantle of orange and the instinct to save lives.

The vest hangs there — a quiet presence between us, a reminder of the double life he carries: one minute a taxi driver navigating traffic, the next a first responder racing toward someone else’s worst day.

He catches my eye in the mirror and gives a small laugh. “Sometimes I think I should choose. Taxi or Hatzalah. But then… how can you choose? People need to get where they’re going. And people need help to stay alive. Besides, this is easier than the motorcycle.”

The meter clicks back on. The car eases forward.

And in that ordinary ride, between errands and red lights, I can’t help but think of the old teaching — that the universe itself rests on the shoulders of thirty-six hidden righteous souls, the lamed-vavnikim. They move quietly among us, never announcing themselves, never demanding recognition, often unaware of who they are. Without them, the world would collapse.

Maybe Muhammad is one of them — a man who drives a taxi, who stops at gas stations like anyone else, who shrugs off his service with a laugh. A man who carries more than passengers. A man who carries our holy city, one stop at a time, and perhaps without knowing it, helps hold the universe together with the other righteous ones.