Sometimes Things Come Back to Us

I lost a tote bag recently and I was very upset.  I was upset for one, because the bag was a gift from a friend, and for two, because I had entrusted it to someone who had vouchsafed for its safe return.  That did not happen as, in the course of events, the bag was overlooked; and at the end of the night, when all was said and done, the bag was gone.  And no one knew what had happened to it.

I myself figured that someone had taken the bag for good or for ill, stealing it or wanting a souvenir, and that it was gone for good.  This troubled me as I had just begun using this bag and was looking forward to years of quality use out of it.  And I will admit I do tend to get sentimentally attached to items that serve me well in my daily life.  And so I was rather put out by its sudden and complete absence.

The person whom I had entrusted with it said it would perchance be found yet, but I did not truly believe her.  As other items that I had left out, pens and whatnot, had been taken, I figured the bag would have been as well.  I suppose I was thinking of the worst of human nature at the moment and none could convince me otherwise.

And now that I think about it my pessimism at that moment is funny to me because I have been one of the most optimistic people when it comes to losing something, having lost a few things that I then found again when it would have seemed improbable.  But I think the difference this time must have been that this was a gift from a good friend.  Things you can buy again, but an item that has been gifted from someone you care about represents something special, because it comes with a happy memory; in that sense, though the item can be bought again, it can never really be replaced.

And so there I was decrying terrible thieving people and entrusting people with objects I valued.  This went on for most of the day though I attempted to distract myself with sleep and Hulu.  At the end of the day, the person I entrusted, who really did feel bad about losing my personal item, relayed to me that a bag matching mine had been found by the establishment from whence it had gone missing.  I could not believe my ears.  I really had thought it was truly gone, that there was no way it would make it back to me.  And yet, here it was found.  I could hardly believe it.  Were people not as bad as I thought?  Had I overestimated the worth of this bag to anyone other than myself?

Whatever the answers to my questions were, I was not willing to believe in my good fortune until I had claimed the bag and saw that it truly was my bag.  And it was.  It was my bag, the bag I thought I'd never see again.  And I was happy.

Now this might sound like a silly story about a silly bag but at the time of its discovery, I realized I might have just been taught a lesson.  And that lesson was that:  Sometimes things come back to us; even the things we think are lost for good.