By Bill King
Have you ever gone to get something that belonged to you only to discover it wasn’t there? Sometimes that may simply be because you have forgotten where you put it. That seems to happen to me much more often now than it once did. I know why, but I’d rather not say. Sometimes we can’t find what we are looking for because someone has taken it…or taken us!
One of life’s more frustrating experiences is to find ourselves on the losing end of thievery. Last Thursday morning, I went online to check my banking account. I love online banking because it allows me to look at my account on a regular basis. I remember the days when I wrote checks but sometimes forgot to record them. Then, when I remembered, I couldn’t always remember the amount. With online banking, I can see every check or debit, and I don’t have to rely on my senior-adult memory to bail me out! For the life of me, I couldn’t remember making the debit for almost a thousand dollars that showed up last Thursday. I had never heard of the bank to which it was paid. Jean didn’t know anything about it, so I picked up the phone and called my bank. They gave me a name and asked if I knew him. He had signed his name to a check to pay a bill, but he used my routing and account numbers. I guess he didn’t know that the eighth commandment said, “Thou shall not steal.”
I spent most of that afternoon at a local branch of my bank. They were most helpful and kind as we closed my account and opened a new one…complete with a whole new set of numbers. Of course, there are many loose ends, such as direct deposits and automatic drafts, that had to be switched over.
Have you ever asked, “Does anyone still do the right thing these days?” Well, actually, some do. Saturday, two days after the bank heist, I went to Full Moon Barbecue to pick up dinner. Baby back ribs, carrot cake, and college football makes for a great Saturday. As I gnawed on bones, I had given no thought to the desert I had ordered. Considering the kind of week I’d had, when I looked in the bag, I wondered if someone had stolen my carrot cake. I called to restaurant to report my missing cake. I fully expected an apology, but I did not expect what came next. The receptionist put the manager on to speak to me. I figured he would tell me I could come back and they would give me another piece. Since that would take me 30-40 minutes round trip, and we were minutes away from the next kickoff, I would not be interested. Much to my pleasant surprise, the manager asked, “Would you like me to bring you another piece?” Almost before I could say, “Is he for real?” he was ringing my doorbell. He not only brought me a scrumptious piece of carrot cake, he brough one for Jean too! He asked if there was anything else he could do for me, and then handled me his personal business card before he left.
On Thursday afternoon, my bank restored my one-thousand dollars. On Saturday, two-pieces of carrot cake, and a manager who went the extra mile, restored a bit of my faith in humankind. I felt like a thousand bucks! There are still good and honest people in this world, that still want to do the right thing. Thank you!
