What was inside my gorgeous 5 month old tanned leather purse from Roots?
* Ipod with expensive headphones
* Zune player with expensive headphones
* Nikon Digital Camera
* $200 cash
* tanned leather wallet from M0851
* Driver's License
* Original Ontario Health Card (for those of you not from Ontario, these are irreplaceable)
* Visa & Debit Card
* Quad spinning punch card (still good for 5 more spin classes)
* Ray-Ban Aviators
* Stila lip-gloss
* Keys to my place with a Jimmy Key Keychain - also irreplaceable)
* Etc.
YIKES!
Clearly I was in dire need of a miracle or a super hero so I called my Dad. He picked me up and we ventured over to the TTC King West Streetcar Depot, which reminded me of a deserted retirement home. The TTC staff tried to be helpful but ultimately I was out of luck. They suggested that I call the "lost & found" department the following day as it was getting late. Being the optimist that I am, I decided to try and get some rest and hope for the best.
I was about to call it a night when my phone rang and a guy asked for "Natalie?" in broken English. Turns out this sketchy character had picked up my purse on the streetcar and was holding it safely for me at 105 West Lodge, the notoriously slummy apartment building in the dangerous neighbourhood of Parkdale.
He insisted that I pick up my purse from his apartment as he had company over and didn't want to leave his guests unattended. He was giggling at the excitement and nervousness in my voice.
Was this some kind of joke? Why couldn't we just meet at a convenience store or other public brightly lit space? What if this guy and his buddies were using my purse to lure me into their apartment so that they could do inappropriate things to me, shoot me, or make me take more money out of my bank account with my debit card that was in their control?
In order to get these nasty thoughts out of my head, I called upon my super hero to accompany me to the low-income, poorly built, scuzzy apartment building, where my purse was patiently waiting, hopefully unharmed.
Through muffled phone calls where I could barely make out the English language, we agreed to meet at the bus stop across from his shady apartment building.
My Dad and I relaxed a little when we saw three young people walk towards the bus stop, with a guy in the front carrying my unscathed purse. The man and the woman behind him were a cute couple who had just moved here from Tibet. They spoke no English but greeted us with huge smiles. Jan Yang, the broken English speaker who I had been conversing with, handed over my purse full of all my valued treasures mentioned in the list above. Everything was exactly as I had left it and all the cash was still there.
When I offered Jan Yang a monetary reward for his kindness and honesty, he looked hurt and frowned. He explained that the act of doing what is right is a reward in itself. True happiness comes from helping others, not from dirty cash. He then bowed to me and my father as we drove away dazzled and amazed by how lucky I was to have had a Buddhist Tibetan find my purse on the King West streetcar.
5 comments:
What a nice story - written very well too. How lucky you were that everything worked out! I left my cell phone in a cab one night, and someone picked it up and returned it to me the next day. Coincidentally, the week after I found someone else's cell in my cab, and I did the same. Now that’s good Karma.
Nat!!! you are hysterical!
This story made me feel good. Like when I take pants out of the dryer in the winter and put them on right away. Or a warm sweater out of the dryer. either one works. but thats how this story made me feel.
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