My Christmas Miracle

So just before Christmas--when most of my friends had already taken off for their respective holiday plans--I went to the movies by myself. It was a beautiful, well-made movie and I was absorbed with thinking it over as I made my way out of the theatre and back to my car.

Needing to pick up a few last things before I too left for the holidays, I drove to the drugstore, where I suddenly realized that I no longer had my wallet. After tearing apart my car, I realized that I must have lost it at the movies. I went back to the theatre, and with the help of an usher, scoured the theatre, with no luck. My wallet was gone.

Under ordinary circumstances, this would have been annoying, but I was supposed to be getting on a plane the next day, and now I had no money, no ID, and no credit cards, and no immediate way to get any of those things. This was far more than annoying: it was horrible. I had no idea what to do, and thinking about it was stressing me out to the point that I thought I was going to cry.

Upset and unsure what to do next, I drove home. As I fumbled for my door key, I looked down. What was that under my doormat? I bent down, pulled back the mat, and there lay my wallet, with everything--license, cash, credit cards--all still in it. No note--no nothing--to explain who had put it there. I chalk it up to a Christmas miracle (surely engineered by my homeboy Saint Anthony) meant to remind me how many good, honest, and lovely people are out there.