Last Monday, I stopped at the post office to mail a package and realized that my wallet wasn’t in my purse. As I’m normally pretty scattered, I didn’t worry too much, because I could visualize it on my honey’s living room floor or my dining room table. I went through the day without it, and then rushed to the dentist, figuring that I still had a checkbook to pay my bill.

After that, I searched my (supremely messy) car, my entire house, inside my couch cushions, Trig’s parking lot, all my many bags of stuff and finally decided to check Al’s parking lot. To my surprise, I saw the impression of my wallet in the snow, but no wallet. When he got home from work that night, he posted notes on all his apartment neighbors’ doors and no one had seen my wallet.

With each minute that went by, I was beginning to lose hope. Visions of the calls to my credit union, credit card companies, DMV, and the Social Security Office whirled in my head in a cloud of frustration and fear. I was bad company that night and I sulked home and again scoured my driveway and garage in hopes that I had overlooked the dang thing. I kind of gave up hope and said to myself, “Well, this is going to work out. I’m sure someone kind and honest person found my wallet and is going to turn it in to the police or give it back to Al. I’m letting go of my angst.”

I got home and got ready for bed. As I locked my front door, bright lights suddenly flashed into my front window as a vehicle roared into my driveway. I immediately thought, “Yeah! Al found my wallet and is bringing it to me.” I swung open the door, expecting to see Al, so I didn’t think twice about the fact that I was already wearing my pajamas, until I was face to face with two men, whom I vaguely recognized from Al’s apartment. One of them held up my beautiful, precious wallet and said, “Did you lose something?”

Through my exclamations of “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he tried to explain to me that his co-worker found it and brought it to him, and they waited until after work to return it to me, and that all my stuff was in it. I said, “I was just about to give up hope. Thank you so much.” I realized that I was standing there in front of strangers, kind and honest people, but strangers, in my nightgown, so I practically slammed the door in their faces. I went to bed feeling so warm and happy that there ARE honest people who do the right thing in this town, and there ARE miracles that do happen, even little miracles.

I never even checked the contents that night. In the morning, when I looked in my wallet, there was $34 in cash (that I didn’t even know I had), in addition to all my cards, and my lucky bean…

I’m hoping a plate of homemade bars, a gift certificate to a local restaurant, and a heartfelt thank you note will show my gratitude. I’m going to try to hold onto this moment of warmth in my heart, knowing that there really are such kind, helpful, honest people who live in Rhinelander and try to remember to “pay it forward.”