Lost and Found: Read This Post If You Need Your Faith Restored in Humanity

I lost my phone yesterday.  I sure did.  In the midst of an epic-ly bad afternoon (more on that tomorrow), I lost my phone.  Had it in my lap in the car and when I got out, that sucker just tumbled onto Lincoln Avenue.  I didn't realize it at the time, of course.  I worried about it an hour or so later, but was in no position to go looking for a phone that may or may not already be gone.

My phone is like a lifeline to me.  It helps me connect to the things I need to do while I am busy mothering.  I have conducted radio interviews while driving to an aunt's funeral in Michigan.  I have finalized really important charity decisions while hoping that folks on the other end of my emails, texts, and calls have no idea that I am sitting in a diner eating pancakes with my kid. I document my family life, my mothering life, my Pinterest fails with the camera.  Instagram provides me with photography skills I never thought possible.  I heart my phone.  Too often, I think, certainly Mary Tyler Dad would agree, the phone looks like an extension of my hand.

You get the point.

And yesterday it was gone, lost.  And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.  I was with my boy at his very first soccer class.  Important stuff, yo. He didn't care about my lost phone.  My panic was not shared and I opted for his joy over my anxiety.  It felt very Zen, actually, the choice to go to the park after soccer class rather than run to the car where the phone might be. And it was a choice.  Because I had backed up my latest photos, I thought everything else could be replaced.  There was an undercurrent of worry at the park, but it was bright and sunny and we were happy outside.

When we got home, though, I made a beeline for our land line.  And yes, we still have a land line.  Cord and everything.

If my corded land line din't tip you off that I am getting older, maybe the bread box or fish oil might convince you.

If my corded land line din't tip you off that I am getting older, maybe the bread box or fish oil might convince you.

I called my number, one of a very few cell phone numbers I actually remember, and waited.  RING, RING, RING.  A man's voice picked up on the fourth ring.  "Um, I think you have my phone," I said breathlessly.  I was expecting to be taunted, or blackmailed, or hung up on.  "I do," the voice said.  He had found it on Lincoln Avenue, just where I had dropped it while so distracted by my kids and worries.  He had my phone.  Better yet, somehow, I don't even know how, he had already made arrangements with my husband to pick it up in ten minutes.

WOW.  WOWWWWW, WOWWW, WOW!  WOWZY WOW WOW!

My phone was lost and now it was found.  There were a few moments of nervous jokes about hoping my husband wasn't walking into an ambush, but they were just jokes.  I was breathing easier.  Life was better.  My phone was found.

I quickly called my husband and asked him to snap a photo of the finder, Brian, his name was.  Please!  I wanted to see the face of the voice and the kind person who had found the phone and taken the time to retrieve it and get it back to me.  And I encouraged Mary Tyler Dad to offer some $ as a thank you.

With phone found and plans made for its return, I got the boy settled and opened up the old lap top.  Clicking on Facebook, I saw that Brian, the phone finder, had left a status as me, ""I found your phone Sheila. Call me or text me at XXX-XXX-XXXX or call your phone if you would like it back."  Simple as that.  You GOTS to love Facebook!  My friends started texting Brian thank yous and better yet, he returned the texts.  This is a fine, upstanding young man we have here.

Besides having a land line, I also think about kids in their 20s as "kids" and using the phrase "fine, upstanding youngsters" definitely says something about me.  Whatever.  My phone is back and I have this young man to thank.  He didn't have to stop what he was doing to pick up my phone.  He didn't have to leave his cell phone number on Facebook to get word out that he had it.  He didn't have to make it so easy to retrieve.  But he did.  And I am grateful.  And I hope his parents know what a fine job they did.

Brian -- phone finder and as my Dad would say, "A gentleman and a scholar."

Brian -- phone finder and as my Dad would say, "A gentleman and a scholar."

Thank you, Brian!  Honest to goodness, your kind gesture helps me feel better about the world at large.  To be on the receiving end of someone else's Good Thing, just feels GOOD.

Has something happened to you that restored your faith in humanity?  Tell me about it in the comments.  We could all use a lift every now and then.  

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Filed under: Slice 'o Life

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