On Sunday, I played tennis at Crocheron Park, as I do every Sunday. It was hot and an hour of singles was enough to send me rushing home for a cool shower. As I got out of my car, I realized that I was missing my fanny pack in which I had my wallet, cell phone and other items that pretty much comprise my life. Without them, I would be lost.
I wheeled the car around and sped back to the park. No fanny pack. Nor, upon questioning, did anyone claim to have seen it. Returning home, I prepared to spend the next hour or so on the telephone canceling the cards and my cell phone account. I would have to spend the next day replacing everything.
An awful prospect, to say the least, but as I sat down at the phone, I noticed the message light flashing. It was you, a total stranger, calling to say that you found my bag and provide your phone number to call you back. I did so immediately. You told me where to find you at the park and I rushed to our rendezvous.
So excited was I that I did not even think to ask how I would know you. The part of the park you said you were in was hosting a children's fair with inflatable bounce toys and myriad games. Looking out over the sea of parents and children, I realized that my chances of picking you out of the crowd were slim to none. I had your cell number, but you had my cell phone. Another good Samaritan let me use her phone and you answered immediately.
"I'm wearing a pink baseball cap," you said, to which I replied that I would stand on home plate of the baseball diamond the children's fair surrounded. Out of that throng of people emerged a family led by an angel in a pink baseball cap with my fanny pack in her hand.
We hugged and you refused to accept a reward of any kind. For you, virtue was its own reward and the object lesson for your children. For me, my appreciation was boundless and I want the world, or as much of it as I can reach in this way, to know about the goodness that is you.
I still do not know your last name, but I have no doubt that those who are important to you will recognize you in this letter and will know who you are.
Thank you, Daisy in the Pink Baseball Cap.
©2008 Community News Group
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