Karen reached in her pocket for her phone. “Oh my God, my wallet,” she whispered to no one. She stopped dead in her tracks, digging into every pocket, every recess of her purse. Even though it was 40F degrees outside in Italy, the sweat poured off her forehead. She ripped her winter hat and scarf off. “Oh my God, where is it?”
She began going through her steps and stops that day. Talking to herself, “OK, first there was coffee. I know I had it there because I opened it to pay. Then, I went to the Accademia. I know I had to put everything through security.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes; “Yes, I remember checking in my purse after I got through security and it was there.” She sighed, trying to slow down her heart rate. “Then there was lunch,” which she remembered she paid with her credit card, so yes, she had her wallet then.
“Next stop was Piazza della Signoria.” Her focus was now on the last hour. “OK, it was crowded. I remember weaving through all the people and the street vendors.” She thought about all the street vendors getting in her face trying to get her to buy the goo or the selfie sticks. “Geez,” she sighed, “could one of them have pickpocketed me? I know Italy has a terrible reputation of pickpockets, but I am always so careful.”
Karen knew that every minute she spent without her wallet was another minute her wallet was getting further away from her. Her mind started going through what credit cards were in there. The dread of having to call all the credit card companies and having to have new cards sent. “Oh crap, my passport,” she blurted. She hadn’t even thought about what that meant. “How am I going to check into the hotel tomorrow without a passport.” All of a sudden, the credit cards didn’t seem so important.
Spying a police car, she ran over to the officer. “Please help me, someone has stolen my wallet,” she whimpered as tears rolled down her cheeks.
The officer looked at her, took a long drag on his cigarette, and shrugged his shoulders. “No English,” the officer said in a very heavy Italian accent. Then he got in his car and drove away.
“Great,” Karen snorted. At this point her panic shifted to irritation. “Well, I guess I’m on my own. And the only money I have is the change in my pockets. Lovely.”
Karen went over to the steps and sat down. With her head hung low, she sighed and started to plan her recovery. “First, I guess I have to get to the US Consulate and figure out how to handle the whole no passport thing. Then, go through the credit card list.” She shook her head and started to cry.
An older lady sat down next to her on the steps. “Those tears are going to freeze. Are you OK?”
Karen looked up, sniffled “Not really, my dream trip has turned into a nightmare. Someone stole my wallet and I have no money, no credit cards, and no passport. Other than that, I’m great.”
The lady put her arm around Karen’s shoulder and whispered, “I’m Mary. It will be OK.” Karen looked up at her and somehow felt not so hopeless. “I have some extra money, and a gift card my children gave me with $300 on it,” Mary said as she dug through her purse. Handing these to Karen, “Here, now at least you have something to tide you over until you get everything cleared up.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Karen whispered as she tucked the money and card into a zipper pocket of her purse. Grabbing her purse in both arms and hugging it tight to her chest, Karen lifted her head up, closed her eyes, and thanked God.
As Karen and Mary sat there staring at the piazza, a young vendor was walking around and talking to everyone he passed. Karen felt her body heating up again as her eyes filled with tears. “That is one of the vendors who kept pushing me to buy his selfie-stick,” Karen growled to Mary. Mary clenched her hand on Karen’s shoulder.
“Excuse me,” the vendor asked Karen. “I think I ran into you earlier tonight. Did you lose anything?” he asked cautiously.
Karen’s eyes opened wide. “Yes, I did. Did you find something?” Karen asked.
“Tell me what you lost and I will tell you if I found it. I must be careful the right owner gets it,” he said.
Karen held her breath, said a small prayer to herself, then said, “A brown clutch wallet.”
The vendor smiled and pulled out of his backpack a the wallet and asked “Are you Karen?”
She cried “Yes, I am. Oh my God. You found it.”
He handed it to her he said “It fell out of your pocket when we bumped into each other.” Then he turned to walk away.
Karen quickly looked through the contents. Nothing was missing, not even the money. “Wait,” she yelled. “Thank you. Please take this,” as she grabbed a few bills from her wallet.
As he waved her off he said, “I am just happy I found you. Maybe buy a selfie stick?” They both smiled and she gladly bought a selfie stick.
As he walked away, Karen and Mary smiled and hugged. “Wait, I don’t need your money or card now,” Karen said as she dug in her purse.
Mary grabbed her hand, “Consider it a gift.”
Joy Jakubiak 