I lost my wallet. A few months ago I lost my wallet while getting out of my car. I'm pretty sure it just fell out of my lap while I was getting out and, in the bustle of pulling out Sylvia and the In 'n Out I'd purchased for dinner I lost it. The wallet only had a few things of any value to anyone else--about $13 and a couple of gift cards--but it was enough someone took the wallet.
For a while I was angry that someone took it. I kept looking at my neighbors wondering who among them would keep the belongings of their neighbor, especially when my address and picture were right there inside. I eventually concocted a story for myself in which my wallet was lost because someone else, perhaps a young, impoverished mother, needed the few dollars to buy diapers for her child or gas to get to the job that keeps her in her meager, but sufficient livelihood. Such a trade would only be fair, after all--I've been blessed by someone else's loss similarly, and in times of significant financial stress. When I was in 5th or 6th grade I lost a bus pass and my parents didn't really have the money to replace it. Shortly after I found a $20 bill--exactly the amount I needed for a new bus pass. I didn't really stop to consider the person who lost the money, just that a problem of mine was now solved. Maybe the real finder of my wallet bears little or no resemblance to the person I imagine; maybe the cash was spent on candy or fast food; but imagining something positive coming from my misfortune gave me some solace.
Today I lost my wallet again. This time apparently nobody needed anything from it; this time someone returned it to me. I am thankful to be so blessed, grateful for people who are honest.
In the same vein, I am grateful for friends who just happened to be at Jack in the balfa and offered me a ride home so I and my two kids didn't have to walk home in the rain.