A Little Story of Christmas Spirit

As you all know, we just drove a long, long way.  There were many stops along the way for potty visits and coffee and diaper changes and nursing and . . . well, stops.  For stuff.

At one of those stops, at a gas station somewhere in Pennsylvania, I left my wallet on top of the car after a trip inside the station with Cubby to buy him some milk.  When I got back to the car, Charlie was crying and Cubby wanted his milk and I was strapping him in and I just . . . left my wallet on top of the car.  But I did not know this until a stranger named Bridie called my sister's cell phone to say she and her husband had found it in the middle of an intersection and picked it up.

Then she offered to mail it to me.  I told her to use whatever cash was in it to pay for the postage, and then take the rest of it and buy herself a bottle of wine or something for being such a good Samaritan.  She must have gone to the post office on Christmas Eve to mail it, because it arrived at Blackrock the day after Christmas.  All the cash and cards were still in it.

If that is not a Christmas miracle, I don't know what is.

So, to Bridie in Pennsylvania:  Thank you for returning my wallet to me and, in the process, reminding us all that some faith in the goodness of our fellow humans is justified.  Sometimes we need that reminder.