Knight 2

A Stranger, a Handbag, and a Birthday

By Ruth Tindugan

Panic gripped my chest the instant I reached out for my hand bag on the passenger’s seat. It wasn't there! Inside was my wallet that contained my driver’s license, two bank cards, two credit cards, pictures of my sons, and a Starbucks gift card. Frantically, I  grabbed the phone that fell from my lap. My hands shook and my voice trembled as I made the calls that, fortunately, on a weekend, made it through.  I have to wait till Monday to re-apply for a driver’s license and go to the bank. I was sure someone had already siphoned my meager savings, used the credit cards, and already had stolen my identity. I sat immobile with anxiety, with arms on my lap feeling heavy like concrete.  Waiting for this matter to resolve will keep me frazzled, and as what happens now and then, the stress will trigger a nightmare – that of a man hovering outside my bedroom window as I sleep.

But that did not happen. 

Something was orchestrated without my knowledge that averted what could have been a crisis, and I learned about it while driving home from church.

I was approaching my neighborhood, and as I slowly veered right to exit, a car honked, cut me off, and stopped at the curve. The driver’s arm was stretched out the window was holding a white handbag on his hand.

I frowned and muttered,   “That looks like my…” a nano second glance at the passenger seat, and I yelled, “It's my handbag!” I stopped the car. We got out at the same time.

He walked towards me saying, “I was at the stop light by the hill and you were on the other side. When you drove away, your handbag fell from the roof of your car. I told my cousin to run and get it. We followed you. I was honking but you were not paying attention.” 

He looked serious and amused at the same time. “Here, open it. To make sure everything is there.”

My mouth just dropped open. The hill was about five miles down the road and this man followed me to return my handbag.

 “I don’t think it's necessary for me to check it,” I mumbled, but I did.  “Thank you so much! You just spared me a huge headache!”

He didn’t ask why the handbag was on the roof of my car, but the words tumbled out of my mouth to explain. 

“I passed a building that was painted with a mural of a desert, and I stopped to take pictures of myself in front of it. I placed the handbag on the roof of my car, propped my phone beside it, and took a video. Done, I took the phone, look at the pics, and drove away.” I shook my head. “How could I forget the handbag?” My cheeks felt hot with embarrassment.

He just smiled as if understanding that forgetfulness can make people do weird things.

Then he tilted his head. “I was going straight on the freeway, but my cousin suddenly thought of visiting a friend. I exited off ramp, stopped at the light, and well…” his voice trailed off. “Maybe I was supposed to be there.” He removed his sun glasses and looked down at his sandals.

I looked at his bearded face, deep set dark eyes, thick brows, and dark olive skin. His broad forehead glistened with tiny beads of sweat that trickled down to his throat settling on his blue t-shirt’s the v-shaped neckline of his blue t-shirt untucked over a gray pair of slacks. He wore a silver wedding band, and a bracelet on his right wrist. He looked like a responsible married man with two kids.

“Thank you again,” I said.  “You made this day the most memorable birthday of my entire life. It could have been horrible.”

His eyes lit up. “Happy birthday!” he said, with a big smile as his arms opened wide as if receiving everything good under the sun.

A car honked behind us. I thanked him again, and we parted.

I was home in two minutes. 

Stupified, I sat still in the car to thaw.

I remembered the scent of orange blossoms coming through my window when I woke up; the morning walk to an open space, sitting on a tree stump, surrounded by brown grass, eating boiled egg and toast for breakfast; and the smell of sun-baked earth moistened with midnight dew.

Then I showered, and wore the flowy, blue floral summer dress I bought for my birthday.

I went for a drive, stopped across a building with a wall painted Arizona orange, bold blue sky, boulders of the Grand Canyon, and a barren tree at one edge of the landscape.

Then took pictures…

I sat awed, thinking — the black Camry with a “chivalrous” driver who just happened to change his route, and stopped on the spot, just at the moment to see a white handbag fell off the roof of a white Corolla — that was a divine arrangement that thwarted the consequences of loss to an unsuspecting damsel. Me.

I cringed imagining the inconvenience and distress I would have gone through if my handbag was not returned.

I recalled starting my day thanking God for the years I’ve lived, and that I asked for a good day.

I came to believe that the Giver of good gifts gave me the gift of providence through a man with a good heart,