Last night was one of those times when one feels the "Christmas spirit". At least I did. Mike and I were running errands and our last place to go was Costco to pick up food and supplies for the cabin. We were both kind of burned out since we've been running around trying to get things lined up to move to the farm part-time starting this weekend. The earlier-than-planned-move abruptly stopped any Christmas decorating, gift making and leisure time we had and threw us head-first into overdrive. That's okay and it's temporary, but I think last night I must have been distracted when we left Costco.
We drove home and just as we were about to pull into our neighborhood, Mike's phone rang. I heard him say, "Holy
#$%@!! We'll be right there!" He turned the car around and headed back to Costco.Turns out I'd left my pocketbook in the parking lot. Just sitting there - full of log-ins to my bank accounts, my credit card, cell phone, wallet and so much information that could cause dire problems if gotten into the wrong hands.
My stomach started to churn because the woman who called didn't say if the wallet, etc. was in the bag or not. We arrived and I ran in. The three door people seemed to know who I was. I guess I had "STOOPID" written on my forehead, but they were very nice and told me a very kind man turned my pocketbook in and it was at the desk. I retrieved it, after showing ID from the pocketbook, and ran to the car to check the contents after thanking the folks at Costco several times for calling Mike.
I pawed through the bag and it appeared to be undisturbed. All my things were there, including the little notebook that has the comprehensive list of things Mike and I need to take to the farm. And my other little notebook with all my bank log-ins was there. And my wallet. A big sigh of relief and a moment of deep gratitude and thanks came over me. What are the odds - especially this time of the year - that someone would turn in my bag from a parking lot? How easy would it have been to grab it and run? I got quite emotional and my eyes teared up.
This morning there was a message on my cell phone from the man who turned it in - just making sure I had retrieved it. He said he hoped I didn't mind that he looked in my address book to see if he could find my phone number. And he said that I didn't need to call him back and then wished me a Merry Christmas - and was gone. But I did call him and told him how much it meant to me, getting teary-eyed once again. What an angel he was. And what a way to make me feel grateful for all that I have and to be reminded that there are still kind souls walking amongst us.
Recent Comments