Thanks, I totally agree smiles.. Patricia ----- Original Message ----- From: "Sugarsyl" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Saturday, December 16, 2006 10:25 PM Subject: [RecipesAndMore] Re: The Wallet
> > Oh my! > this was lovely. > Thank you for sharing. > Syl > > Bless us Lord, this Christmas, with quietness > of mind; Teach us to be patient and always to > be kind. > Merry Christmas > -Sylvia C. Lopez > > ----- Original Message ----- > From: "send stuff here" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> > To: "delmas recipes" <[email protected]> > Sent: Saturday, December 16, 2006 8:10 PM > Subject: [RecipesAndMore] The Wallet > > >> >> As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had >> lost >> in the street I picked it up and looked inside to find some >> identification >> so >> >> I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a >> crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years. >> >> The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the >> return address. I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue >> Then >> I saw >> >> the dateline; 1924. The letter had been written almost sixty years ago. >> >> It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue >> stationery >> with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a "Dear John" letter >> >> that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael, that the >> writer >> could not see him any more because her mother forbade it. Even so, she >> wrote >> >> that she would always love him. It was signed, Hannah. >> >> It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name >> Michael, >> that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information, the >> operator >> >> could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope. >> >> "Operator," I began, "this is an unusual request. I'm trying to find the >> owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there >> is >> a >> >> phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?" >> >> She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment >> then >> said, "Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can't give >> you >> the >> >> number." She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my >> story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me. I waited a few >> minutes >> >> and then she was back on the line. "I have a party who will speak with >> you." >> >> I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the >> name of Hannah. She gasped, "Oh! We bought this house from a family who >> had >> a >> >> daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!" >> >> "Would you know where that family could be located now?" I asked. >> >> "I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some >> years >> ago," the woman said. "Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be >> able >> >> to track down the daughter." >> >> She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number They >> told >> me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone >> number >> >> for where they thought the daughter might be living. >> >> I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah >> herself was now living in a nursing home. >> >> This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a >> big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars >> and >> a >> >> letter that was almost 60 years old? >> >> Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to >> be >> living and the man who answered the phone told me, "Yes, Hannah is >> staying >> with >> >> us." >> >> Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see >> her. >> "Well," he said hesitatingly, "if you want to take a chance, she might be >> in >> >> the day room watching television." >> >> I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a >> guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large >> building. >> >> In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah. >> >> She was a sweet, silver-haired old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle >> in >> her eye. >> >> I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second >> she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she >> took >> >> a deep breath and said, "Young man, this letter was the last contact I >> ever >> had with Michael." >> >> She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said softly, "I >> loved >> him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too >> young. >> >> Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor." >> >> "Yes," she continued. "Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you >> should find him, tell him I think of him often. And," she hesitated for a >> moment, >> >> almost biting her lip, "tell him I still love him. You know," she said >> smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, "I never did marry. I >> guess >> no >> >> one ever matched up to Michael..." >> >> I thanked Hannah and said good-bye. I took the elevator to the first >> floor >> and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, "Was the old lady able >> to >> >> help you?" >> >> I told him she had given me a lead. "At least I have a last name But I >> think >> I'll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find >> the >> >> owner of this wallet." >> >> I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with >> red >> lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, "Hey, wait a minute! >> That's >> >> Mr. Goldstein's wallet. I'd know it anywhere with that bright red lacing. >> He's always losing that wallet. I must have found it in the halls at >> least >> >> three times." >> >> "Who's Mr. Goldstein?" I asked as my hand began to shake. >> >> "He's one of the old timers on the 8th floor. That's Mike Goldstein's >> wallet >> for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks." >> >> I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse's office I told her >> what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on. I >> prayed >> >> that Mr. Goldstein would be up. >> >> On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, "I think he's still in the day >> room. He likes to read at night. He's a darling old man." >> >> We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man >> reading >> a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. >> Mr >> >> Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and >> said, >> "Oh, it is missing!" >> >> "This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be >> yours?" >> >> I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled >> with >> relief and said, "Yes, that's it! It must have dropped out of my pocket >> this >> >> afternoon. I want to give you a reward." >> >> "No, thank you," I said. "But I have to tell you something. I read the >> letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet." >> >> The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. "You read that letter?" >> >> "Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is." >> >> He suddenly grew pale. "Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she >> still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me," he begged. >> >> "She's fine...just as pretty as when you knew her." I said softly. >> >> The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, "Could you tell me where >> she >> is? I want to call her tomorrow." He grabbed my hand and said, "You know >> something, >> >> mister, I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my >> life >> literally ended. I never married. I guess I've always loved her. " >> >> "Mr. Goldstein," I said, "come with me." >> >> We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened >> and >> only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where >> Hannah >> >> was sitting alone watching the television. >> >> The nurse walked over to her. >> >> "Hannah," she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me >> in >> the doorway "Do you know this man?" >> >> Hannah adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn't say a word. >> Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, "Hannah, it's Michael. Do you >> remember >> >> me?" >> >> She gasped, "Michael! I don't believe it! Michael! It's you! My Michael!" >> >> He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with >> tears streaming down our faces. >> >> "See," I said. "See how the Good Lord works! If it's meant to be, it will >> be." >> >> About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home >> "Can >> you break away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are >> going >> >> to tie the knot!" >> >> It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home >> dressed >> up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked >> beautiful. >> >> Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their best >> man. >> >> The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a >> >> 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you >> had >> to see this couple. >> >> A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years. >> >> Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only love will leave >> footprints in your heart. >> >> >> >> > >> >> >> -- >> No virus found in this incoming message. >> Checked by AVG Free Edition. >> Version: 7.5.432 / Virus Database: 268.15.21/589 - Release Date: >> 12/15/2006 5:10 PM >> >> > > > > > --~--~---------~--~----~------------~-------~--~----~ Access the Recipes And More list archives at: http://www.mail-archive.com/recipesandmore%40googlegroups.com/ Visit the group home page at: http://groups.google.com/group/RecipesAndMore -~----------~----~----~----~------~----~------~--~---
