Thursday, September 04, 2003
Kind Souls really do exist....
Wow. There's hope. There really are honest people out there.
Last night I was at Suntec having dinner. Sometime between dinner and the MRT station, I lost my wallet. Lost as I had no friggin idea where the hell it had dropped. Kar Meng and I trekked all the way back to Cafe Cartel, where we'd had dinner, but couldn't find it.
All bummed out, I just went home after that, stopping by the Bishan Police Post to lodge a report on my way home. Everything was in that bloody wallet. Credit card, ATM card, IC. Everything. And lots of neoprints. Sounds stupid, but I was more bummed about losing the neos than about everything else. They're irreplaceable.
In short, I never thought I'd see the bloody wallet again.
Then this afternoon at about 2pm, this guy comes knocking at my door. Middle aged fella, fatherly looking with a flat top crew cut that's greying at the temples. I open the door and he hands the wallet to me. I'm so stunned I can do nothing but gasp. And gape at him in amazement. He tells me in Chinese that his daughter found the wallet at Suntec last night and gave it to him. Since there was no phone number, he drove it to CJC first because my EZYlink card said I was a student there.
When they told him I was no longer a student there, he found my address on my IC and drove it here this morning. But then, no one answered the door---because I was asleep as usual. So he tried again after lunch. He smiles and asks to me check whether anything's missing from it.
I open the damn thing and look through it. Everything's there. Even the money. By now I've overcome my initial shock. My vocal cords are working again. In my stiliting Chinese, I try to thank him, even though no words can accurately express how I feel. My brain races, still trying to grasp how nice this man is. I want to give him something in return. But offering him money would almost be an insult. And I can think of nothing else to offer him.
I just thank him. Over and over again.
He smiles again, then he leaves.
Only as I watch his yellow City Cab pull out of the parking lot do I realize that I didnt even get the kind man's name. I kick myself.
This little incident has shown me a side of society that in my daily cynicism of the world around, I'd forgotten existed. It never occurred to me that any stranger would ever be so kind as to pick up a wallet, leave the contents untouched and return it personally to its owner. I guess kindness and honesty arent dead after all. They still exist. And just knowing that makes you feel that little bit better about the world you live in.
Last night I was at Suntec having dinner. Sometime between dinner and the MRT station, I lost my wallet. Lost as I had no friggin idea where the hell it had dropped. Kar Meng and I trekked all the way back to Cafe Cartel, where we'd had dinner, but couldn't find it.
All bummed out, I just went home after that, stopping by the Bishan Police Post to lodge a report on my way home. Everything was in that bloody wallet. Credit card, ATM card, IC. Everything. And lots of neoprints. Sounds stupid, but I was more bummed about losing the neos than about everything else. They're irreplaceable.
In short, I never thought I'd see the bloody wallet again.
Then this afternoon at about 2pm, this guy comes knocking at my door. Middle aged fella, fatherly looking with a flat top crew cut that's greying at the temples. I open the door and he hands the wallet to me. I'm so stunned I can do nothing but gasp. And gape at him in amazement. He tells me in Chinese that his daughter found the wallet at Suntec last night and gave it to him. Since there was no phone number, he drove it to CJC first because my EZYlink card said I was a student there.
When they told him I was no longer a student there, he found my address on my IC and drove it here this morning. But then, no one answered the door---because I was asleep as usual. So he tried again after lunch. He smiles and asks to me check whether anything's missing from it.
I open the damn thing and look through it. Everything's there. Even the money. By now I've overcome my initial shock. My vocal cords are working again. In my stiliting Chinese, I try to thank him, even though no words can accurately express how I feel. My brain races, still trying to grasp how nice this man is. I want to give him something in return. But offering him money would almost be an insult. And I can think of nothing else to offer him.
I just thank him. Over and over again.
He smiles again, then he leaves.
Only as I watch his yellow City Cab pull out of the parking lot do I realize that I didnt even get the kind man's name. I kick myself.
This little incident has shown me a side of society that in my daily cynicism of the world around, I'd forgotten existed. It never occurred to me that any stranger would ever be so kind as to pick up a wallet, leave the contents untouched and return it personally to its owner. I guess kindness and honesty arent dead after all. They still exist. And just knowing that makes you feel that little bit better about the world you live in.
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