Dear Kind Sir,
Last Saturday, we met at the post office.
You were patiently waiting in line when I came back inside, feeling foolish and frantic, searching for a one hundred dollar bill that had fallen out of my coat pocket. You offered to help me find it, as did several other customers waiting in line around you. I knew the money was likely long gone, and hoped with all my heart that someone who really needed it stumbled upon it just in time for Christmas.
Back at my car, I found the missing bill between the seat and the door. I was on my way back inside to thank you for your time and kindness, when I saw you, bursting through the post office doors—appearing to be looking for something of your own. I smiled and waved, shouting to you that all was well.
When you raised your hand to wave back, I saw you were holding money. You said, “I started a collection for you!”
Truth be told, aside from my full heart and teary eyes, I can’t remember what exactly our cross-parking lot conversation entailed. But I can tell you that I was truly touched, and that I’ve played out that scene in my memory a thousand times over the last week. And every time, I wish I would have ended it differently.
I thanked you from where I stood, several yards away, but I’m upset with myself for not having the presence of mind to walk over to shake your hand. I regret not thanking you for leaving your spot in that very long post office line, and for not thanking the others who waited there, too. For not telling you—up close with those silly tears running down my face—how meaningful that gesture was.
I am so happy the world is filled with people who have hearts like yours.
I hope you have the Merriest of Christmases.