|
recently divorced, i was in my 20s, had no job and was on my way downtown to go the rounds of the employment offices. i had no umbrella, for my old one had fallen apart, and i could not afford another one. i sat down in the streetcar--and there against the seat was a beautiful silk umbrella with a silver handle inlaid with gold and necks of bright enamel. i had never seen anything so lovely. i examined the handle and saw a name engraved among the golden scrolls. the usual procedure would have been to turn in the umbrella to the conductor, but on impulse i decided to take it with me and find the owner myself. i got off the streetcar in a downpour and thankfully opened the umbrella to protect myself. then i searched a telephone book for the name on the umbrella and found it. i called and a lady answered. yes, she said in surprise, that was her umbrella, which her parents, now dead, had given her for a birthday present. but, she added, it had been stolen from her locker at school (she was a teacher) more than a year before. she was so excited that i forgot i was looking for a job and went directly to her small house. she took the umbrella, and her eyes filled with tears. the teacher wanted to give me a reward, but--though twenty dollars was all i had in the world--her happiness at retrieving this special possession was such that to have accepted money would have spoiled something. we talked for a while, and i must have given her my address. i dont remember. | 
