"If I wanted your money, I would have kept your wallet."

It was a good day. I ran the 10K in Central Park. We took Poppy to the Zoo, with her pal G. Many of the animals were awake and even the polar bears were swimming. Under a cloudless sky and the warming sun, we feed the goats, pat the bunnies and even got a cab just past the construction for a traffic-free ride home. The Mini-one ate a good lunch and cooperatively hit the sack for a nice nap. Later, we made our way to Tompkins Square Park for some playgroud-ing with another mate, Ben, and stopped at Pete's-A-Place for dinner. Good, indeed.

I dropped the girls off at home, gathered my things and headed out to M's house for a long awaited poker game. My travel plan got interrupted the L Train isn't running weekends, so the buses were lined up to carry us West. I read some found pages and gawked at walking people's from the elevated view. easy trip across town and a lazy five-block walk up to the game. All was well until I reached for my wallet and buy-in money.

Uh, it's not there, in my right-side jacket pocket. I know it was there, I put it there while I was . . . on . . . the bus. Damn! I dropped it, or it fell or Ah crap! A and I decided to walk the few blocks just to see if it was on the street or in trash can. Wandering with the empty sense of loss, I knew it was gone. Down a couple blocks and back up, the perfect spring evening alive with voices and vices.

I called The Girl for some consolation and a quick look around the house. I knew it was gone, just knew. Dammit! Back at M's house I started with the bank card and dialed Customer Service figuring this process would take up most of my time a the card table. Touch toning my way through the menu, the call waiting beeped me, it was The Girl.

"Today is your luck day. Mark has your wallet and is outside the Whole Foods."

"Wow. are you kidding me?"

"No. He said he wait for you. Here's his number. Call him, get in a cab and go get it."

Stunned and amazed, I hung up on the Bank and dialed. Mark answered with an upbeat call of my name, confirmed he my billfold and gave a quick description of himself.

I was 10 minutes away, max, and hopped in a cab. On the way over, I felt the vast wash of loss and realized, too, that he had to call information to get the home number. That in and of itself is a lot more effort than most people put forth. I struggled with some way to pay him back, some way to re-pay his kindness, generosity and selflessness. In any town, those are impressive qualities. In New York City, they're nothing short of pious.

At Union Square, I got out of the taxi and dialed Mark again to find one another. After an acknowledgement and a firm handshake, he reached into his front pocket and there was my wallet.

"I can't thank you enough for this. Can I give you a twenty or something."

With a slight chuckle he said, "If I wanted your money, I would have kept your wallet. There's just some good karma going on here, between us. Keep it up."

He turned, reached for his bags as I wandered off toward M's house, wallet firmly in my rear pocket. I don't know who he is or what he was or where he, but I'm sure glad Mark was in the cards for me last night, there and there.

Thanks, Mark. Thank you SO much.

Submitted by Doug over at elevene

A Priceless Lesson

I was at a Carolina Panthers NFL game in Charlotte, NC in November of 2007 with my 21 year old daughter. We were also with a large group of family and friends. At halftime, my daughter and I stood in the long line for the ladies room waiting our turn. When a stall finally opened, I ran in and proceeded with the "public bathroom squat." Looking down, I noticed a small wallet lying between my feet and picked it up after I'd finished. I opened the stall door to see if anyone was looking for it, but everyone inside seemed calm and unconcerned. I opened it up and there was a driver's license, a credit card, and over 100 dollars cash in it. What to do? I didn't want to keep it, but the crowds were coming and going and how do you find someone in a huge crowd like that? I could turn it in to lost and found, but the address on the license indicated she was from out of town, would she be able to collect it before the end of the game? Would it be better to try and contact her myself after the game and get it back to her that way? We left the restroom and joined the rest of our crowd, while I explained to them about this wallet I had just found in the stall. Never did I think of keeping it, but my daughter, a broke college student, started thinking of all the ways she could use that extra 100 bucks. Some of the others we were with encouraged me to keep it as well. But as we stood outside the restroom debating what to do about it, my daughter noticed a woman frantically run in the exit door of the restroom, and recognized her from the picture on the drivers license. I didn't hesitate, I also went back in there and asked her if she was looking for her wallet. She explained that it must have fallen out of her jacket pocket and she didn't realize it till she got ready to pay for some snacks. She was so grateful she wanted to give me some of the money for its return, but I wouldn't hear of it. She started crying and just stood there a moment, then finally grabbed me and hugged me really hard and said "Thank you SO much for being honest."

On the ride home from the game, my daughter quietly said to me "mom, you really would have done whatever it took to find her and return that wallet, wouldn't you?" To which I replied, "of course. No matter what happened, that money didn't belong to us, and no one should gain from someone else's misfortune, and I would hope that if the same thing happened to you or to me, that someone would do the same for us."

If nothing else, I hope my daughter learned a lesson that day. That would be worth far more than 100 bucks found on the floor of a bathroom stall!

~ Sherry

MBTA Green Line and Metrowest commuter rail, May 1, 2008

Dear person who found my husband's wallet.

Aside from just being a freakishly awesome human being, you took the sting out of an otherwise humiliating and absurd situation. Yesterday morning the husband pulled into the parking lot of our friendly neighborhood commuter rail station only to see his train pulling away. Frustrated, he jumped on the Mass Pike to the end of the green line which, with morning rushour traffic, put him within striking distance of being late and drawing the ire of his hospital overlords.

At the end of the day, he wearily boarded the shuttle to the commuter rail, boarded his train, cracked open his book and enjoyed the serene ride back to the suburbs, where he realized at once what he had done.

His car was fifteen miles away at the Riverside T stop. And, oh, by the way, his wallet's gone.

While all of this was happening, I was at my friend's house having a cup of tea while our kids played nearby and my phone rang fruitlessly in my car. Luckily, one of our friends answered his phone and rescued him from the commuter rail parking lot and drove him to his car. One crisis down, one to go.

Once we finally connected, I called our bank and credit card people to cancel his card and then went to the bank to withdraw enough cash to keep him afloat for the weekend (we're to Disney World without him- sorry, dude) while we're away.

One thing that I love about my husband is that he has almost childlike optimism. He said he'd find the conductor in the morning and see if anyone had turned it in. See, I was the one who hung up on him when I heard what happened so I could cancelthosecardsimmediatelyohmygodwhatiftheyboughtahousewithourmoneyalreadywaaaaaaahhhh!! whereas he had faith in his fellow commuters. When I spoke to him this morning he struck out, but was still hopeful. Moments later our local police called. Someone found his wallet and turned it in. Nothing was missing.

More than helping to restore my faith in humanity, you made it so that Husband didn't have to endure a day at the RMV and the insane labyrinth that is the Commonwealth of Massachusetts Board of Licensing of Allied Health Professionals. See, Husband has to keep his professional licenses on him at all times and having to get new copies of these licenses makes the thought of a visit to the RMV look like a day at the beach. You also returned his brand new May T pass (a non-refundable $200 value).

So thank you, whoever you are. From the bottom of our hearts.

Kara and Husband