Cuz...
Sunday morning at my
church, my purse was stolen. Taken from 6 feet away from me, while I was in a meeting. It was nowhere to be found, it contained most of my life and rather a lot of my cash (I'd gotten my cash out for ALA early, cuz I was already going to be busy all week until I leave), my
brand new cell phone (less than 48 hrs old, which I'd spent 3
hours programming the night before), my Spongebob checkbook cover and checks (dude!), and the little case my late grandmother gave me, in which I've kept my makeup for 10 years. All gone. No trace.
Why am I lucky? Cuz through all the tears and screaming (me), some very nice women at the church searched the building and grounds, the elderly gentleman I'd been meeting with earlier gave me $40 so I'd have some cash (paying him back today), another friend let me use her cell phone to call my friend and houseguest Michael, whom I was supposed to meet for lunch. He instead brought me home some lunch and entertained my cat while I called a half dozen banks and my cell phone company. Later, a bunch of friends gave me wine and sympathy at their house, and I ran into some folks I'd been wanting to see, who I hadn't expected. One of them is waiting for a kidney, so I was glad to see him up and around. And as a topper, my friend Judy met me at the church at 9:15 at night to search through
garbage to see if we could find my purse. I mean, seriously, who has friends who will pick through garbage?!
I am blessed. Really, I do get that. I am thankful. I'm also pissed, scared, betrayed and shaky. I'm competent and did everything I was supposed to do, so in that way, I made my own luck.
It all balances. They took the photo of my dearly departed Molly-cat, but I have another. They took my Borders gift card, with which I was going to buy myself a birthday present tomorrow. And rather a lot of cash, with which I was going to buy myself cocktails and lunch in Chicago this weekend. I have a paycheck coming, so I'll cope. They also took a good chunk of my remaining faith in humanity as a whole (my friends being a last, deeply cherished exception). That's going to be harder to replace.
So. Now I just have to try to reconstruct my life in these United States and get through the next few days. Then there shall be friends and merriment.
I can only imagine what this experience would have been like for someone who is ignorant, friendless and/or alone. A horrible thought.
An online friend sent me the following email, which got me thinking:
Louise,
This is going to sound weird, but I believe the best thing you can do in this world is make a difference in a person's life (for the better of course ; ). With all the people coming to your aid, you must have made a big difference in their lives.
A
very sweet thing for her to say, and I certainly hope it's true of me.
That aside, however, I bring it up because it got me wondering how we touch other people's lives, for better or worse, each day. Out of the blue yesterday, a patron I've helped maybe once or twice comes up to me, after watching me all day, and says "people probably don't bother to tell you this, but I wanted to let you know that you're a very nice person and do your job well." Wha?? I was speechless for several moments. I thanked him for the kind words, and we talked about how rarely we make a point of telling people when they've done a good job. Now, I make a point of it fairly often, perhaps because I've worked in public service for a long time and I know how it can make my day or week.
So go, tell the lady at the post office that it was nice of her to put extra tape on your box. Tell the nice lady at the McDonald's drive thru that you appreciate that she gave you extra napkins, without having to ask, once she saw you had a soccer team in the back of your minivan. Thank the person who held the door open for you at the store, when you had your hands full. Better yet,
be that person. You never know what kind of day they've had.
