I have to say I believe, in general, that people are inherently good. Most people, I think have good hearts and try to do the right thing as much as they are capable. Of course there are bad seeds everywhere, but it’s so nice to see when human nature shines, isn’t it?
My latest confirmation of why I believe this, happened this past week. It had been one of those long weeks. One of my uncles had recently passed away and we were on the road for the funeral services. My husband, even though he’s been pretty busy with work, was able to accompany the kids and I for the event. The trip into northern Pennsylvania was a beautifully scenic drive, and even though it was a fairly long 5 hour trip, it was as pleasant as it could be, considering the circumstances. Thankful for the company, I offered to drive the entire trip so that Tom could work on the drive. It was delightful not running into traffic. On the way there I had kidded with Tom that oh man, we are in rush hour, and blissfully, there couldn’t have been more than a dozen cars or so on the road. Quite a nice change of pace from the DC area where going 10 miles could take 2 hours without blinking an eyelash.
The services were very nice, but it had been a long couple of days. One of the drawbacks of staying in a quaint motel in that area during hunting season was that hunters get up at the crack of dawn. Also, unfortunately I never found the thermostat for the baseboard heaters until the next morning and it gets awfully chilly up thare in them there mountains. So, needless to say, I was a bit tired the next day. It’s always great to catch up with the extended family and spending some time chatting, but I was happy to get on the road as I knew it would be along journey.
I again offered to drive so that Tom could get some work done. It was another lovely fall day, and the foliage was still pretty spectacular. We weren’t quite as lucky the next day with traveling. We were slowed several times by several oversized trucks on the roads, taking their time on the steep mountain passes with their heavy cargo. We stopped a couple hours into the trip to stretch our legs and get some snacks. There was a huge rest area off the PA turnpike called Breezewood that fill the bill before hit the tarmac again. I can remember being annoyed that I had to empty ice and water out of a cooler with snacks because everything was water logged–I hadn’t realized my super efficient son had iced it up before we left.
The closer we got to the DC area, the heavier the traffic was. The ETA on our GPS kept adding 20 minutes here and there as we inched our way home. We also needed to make a quick stop to pick up our CSA haul for the week. As we were getting out of the car to pick up our veggies, I realized that my purse was not behind my seat where I usually stash it. Holy Crap. We searched up and down and all over. I realized I had to have left it at the rest stop we visited three hours earlier. Talk about making a long, drawn out day dramatically longer. Of course it was also after hours, so I found myself making several calls through several voice prompts, but by some stroke of luck I managed to speak to a live person and explain my dilemma.
Unbelievably, they did have my purse in hand. Apparently, someone in the parking lot had seen me put it on the roof of my car, where it must have fallen off when I pulled out of the parking lot. The gentleman watching had tried to get my attention, but of course, I was just focused on getting back on the road to home once again. Saint that he was, he brought my purse into the service area and turned it in. After having spent over 12 hours in the car in two days, I had no desire to spend another 5 plus hours on the road to retrieve it. I happily paid to have it shipped home.
Once it finally returned back into my hands a couple days later, I was amazed to find everything fully in tact. No activity on any of my credit cards. Cash still in the wallet. Checkbook untouched. My iPod tucked safely within. Talk about miraculous. Not only did it remain in tact from the gentleman that recovered it, but it also passed through the clerk that kept it, and then passed it along to the management office to ship it back to me. Man, am I grateful for those kind souls that took the extra effort to return my purse back to its rightful owner.
I like to think it was someone watching over me. In fact, wouldn’t it be neat if it was my dearly departed uncle who was looking out for me and working a little miracle for me? I’d like to think so.