Nine times out of ten the only thing I hear is “I’m sorry.” I hear it so often that it makes shut down, because I don’t want sympathy...
That was a “to be continued“ thought, started six months ago and now I feel like it’s the right time to finish it.
I was visiting my brother in Austin last weekend. On Saturday night I went to the Congress Avenue Bridge to watch the bats. On Sunday morning when I woke up and turned on my phone there were a couple text messages from my cousin and a voicemail from the (512) area code. It was then that I learned that I had lost my wallet on Saturday evening. The woman who found it was trying to get in touch with me via Facebook. When I did not respond, she reached out to my cousin, who gave her my contact information.
I made arrangements to pick it up and was on my way to a suburb, about twenty miles North of Austin. When I arrived, we stood at the door and made small talk. She knew that I was from out of town and I explained that I was visiting my brother. She asked about him and I told her about his diagnosis. She responded with a very personal story about her mother and told me that she would pray for him.
I thanked her and offered her some cash (reward) as a token of my appreciation for finding the wallet. She declined and told me to do something nice for someone else.
One time out of ten I am met with empathy and that makes the other nine worth enduring.
