Lost and Found

It was an unassuming backpack, and I didn't really give it a second thought. Sitting at a busy park, I was trying to catch some early Spring sunlight while writing a paper that I'd been putting off all week. I had vaguely noticed the bag by the tree near me when I sat down, but it hadn't really registered. About an hour later, as day gave way to dusk and a chill started to set in, I looked around the park and realized it had emptied out. I had started to pack up when I happened to notice the bag again and realized the owner was long gone by now. After gathering my belongings, I walked over to the tree to have a look. Nothing special; no markings, tags or pins. Just a plain black backpack. I decided to open it up and have a look inside, hoping there would be some ID so I could try to contact the owner.

I leaned over and unzipped the main compartment. At first glance it was empty, but a little shake revealed a black Moleskin tucked into in the inner pocket. I felt around the other zippered pockets. No keys, wallet, glasses; nothing to identify the owner, so I reached in and pulled out the Moleskin. I opened it up to the page held by the bookmark, which happened to be marking tomorrow's date. I flipped through the other pages and it appeared like there were only a handful of entries. That’s a bit odd. I looked up and scanned the park and surrounding area but still couldn't see anyone. The light was fading fast, so I zipped the bag back up and slung it over my shoulder along with my own bag and headed home.

It was many hours later, dinner done, showered, and enjoying a glass of wine when I reached over to where I had dropped the backpack and opened it up again to have a better look. I thumbed through the pages just to make sure I wasn't missing anything but there were only 4 entries in the entire planner. Curiosity getting the better of me, I read the first entry dated for tomorrow.

February 25th, 2021:

"Are you kind and thoughtful and good?

Are you ready to help like you know you should?

Will you give back just a bit of your time?

Or are you waiting for some sort of sign?"

How very odd indeed. This was clearly not a planner used to keep appointments or birthdays in order. It was some sort of riddle, and it was starting to feel like perhaps this bag hadn't been lost at all. I wonder, had someone intentionally left it there to be found?

February 26, 2021:

"All around the world people show love with food

A connection that binds and makes us feel good.

Eating alone isn't all that much fun

Make an effort today so it's not just dinner for one"

OK. It seems the owner of this mystery Moleskin is setting up a bit of a challenge. I think about it for a bit and realize that I want to play along. I can be good and give some of my time or invite someone over for dinner. So I set my mind to it and decide that I will find a way to help someone tomorrow, and then drift off to sleep.

Morning coffee, getting dressed, racing off to my part time job, and I don't have a second to think about my challenge for today. It's about noon when I have my first break, but I am back to bagging groceries before I can even start to formulate a plan. At the end of my shift, as I am walking out the doors for the day, there is an elderly woman ahead of me whom I recognize. I have seen her in the store before, and probably in the neighbourhood too, but I haven't ever stopped to chat with her. She is towing her canvas shopping cart behind her and as she exits the automatic doors, the wheel catches on the lip of the doorframe and her cart tilts to the left, and with it, a cascade of tumbling oranges and tomatoes. I rush over to help with her cart and reload her spilled produce. And then I think, I can do more. I ask her if she is ok, and then tell her I have seen her in the shop before. We start to talk as we slowly make our way outside. Her name is Edna. She is 81 years old and still living on her own. Turns out she is just about 5 blocks from my house; we are almost neighbours! I tell her I am walking in the same direction and ask if I can pull her cart while we walk together.

Edna is ecstatic. She has stories, a wicked dark sense of humour, and more life lived than I can even imagine. She immigrated to Canada when she was just 19, made a life for herself, worked hard, and has travelled the world over. She was married and widowed, not once but twice. She has a cat called Fungus (not sure why), she still gardens and grows her own vegetables. What little family she has is gone, most of her friends have passed. She is lonely, I think. We arrive at her place and I have loved every minute of our conversation. She seems to have as well and asks if I would like to join her for tea in the garden. How can I refuse? We chat for another hour before I have to say my goodbyes.

I have class in the morning and then am free for the rest of my Friday and into the weekend. I have already decided what I am going to do. I gather containers and start in on my project. I make a big stock pot of chicken soup from scratch and the biscuits are already rising. I also make a batch of chocolate chip cookies for something sweet. I pour out three servings of soup into the containers and seal them up to be frozen and enjoyed later. I wrap the buns in a tea towel, load up the cookies, and take the pot of soup off the stove.

It is about 4:00 by now and I make my way over to Edna's place. I knock a few times and instead of the front door opening, she pops her head around the side gate. She has working in her garden all day getting it ready for planting vegetables in the coming weeks. She is amazing! I tell her I had so much fun yesterday and that I wanted to repay her for the tea and stories. She walks around the path and I show her what I have brought. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it.....I am joining her for dinner and that is that! The hours pass with no shortage of things to talk about. I learn more about her life and I begin to tell her a little bit about myself. I help her pack up her gardening tools as it gets darker before we head inside to reheat the soup on the stove. We enjoy dinner and just when I am starting to think it's about time to leave, she comes into the dining room with two glasses of sherry to go with our cookies!

February 27, 2021:

"So, you’ve decided you are the sort that will give

But one day alone doesn't change how you live.

You choose every day so try it again.

This time do it by picking up a pen."

It is Saturday, and hot on the heels of dinner with Edna, I try to figure out what I can write that might fit the bill for today. Over my coffee it comes to me. I will write Edna a letter and officially ask her to be my friend. I will give her my phone number and ask if we can set up a weekly dinner together! I want to get to know her better, and I think she enjoys having someone to tell her stories to. I get out some nice stationary and write her a note, old school handwriting....not typed on the computer! I make sure to slip it through her mail slot later that day and then head out with a few school friends for the evening. When I return home, I realize I have missed a call on my cell. I listen to Edna, tears barely being held back, thanking me for the letter and saying how much she would love to make dinner a weekly thing.

February 28, 2021:

"It's been a few days have you noticed a change?

Will you keep it up or stay the same?

It is time to go back to where it began.

Leave a note in the book and share if you can."

Tonight, I sit watching Netflix and I write a letter detailing the past few days. I describe all about meeting Edna, helping her with her groceries, making dinner for her, and asking her to be my friend. I share some of her amazing stories and thank the mysterious Moleskin owner for giving me the nudge I needed to reach out to others. I share how Edna and I have set up an ongoing weekly dinner date and how this lucky turn of events has been so impactful to me. I tuck the letter into tomorrow's date, close the book, and wrap the elastic over the front cover. On my jog the next morning I make sure to detour by the park and gently place the backpack and it's contents back under the tree where I had found them.

It is many months later, when summer days stay bright and warm well into the evening, and Edna and I are finishing up another dinner together. We have continued to see each other regularly and our friendship has grown. She knows I am pursing my degree in Education and that I want to be a teacher. She also knows that I have no family to speak of and has happily decided to take me on as her surrogate grandchild! I have learned more about her life too, her loves and her loses and so many amazing stories. We have grown quite close. After I am finished washing the dishes, we sit down for a game of cards and our now customary glass of sherry (which had become a regular treat). Edna reaches over to her side table and presents a card. She extends her hand and says it's for me, but I'm not to open it up until I get home. We finish up our evening and say our goodbyes before I walk the few blocks home, excited to open the card.

Inside the envelope there is a thank you card and a cheque. I almost drop it in my lap when I see the amount it is made out for.....$20,000! Inside, the card expresses Edna's thanks for the kindness I have shown, for reaching out, and for being open to a friendship. She says she knows school is expensive and that she wants to help because she has the means to do so and no one else in her life to help. I am overcome and struggle to decide if I can accept this generous gift, or if I should say thank you but this is just too much. As I fold the card to replace it in the envelope, I realize there is something written on the back:

"PS....

I may be getting old but I still have lots to share.

I set upon a plan to find someone who would care.

I never would have guessed that this is how it ends.

Finding someone wonderful who now I call my friend."