Recently some friends of mine came down from Bracebridge, where he’s a realtor, and we went to the Cottage Life Show together. We had a wonderful time, looking at all kinds of great, but expensive ideas which we won’t be implementing at our cottage any time soon.
Towards the end of the day we were wandering fairly slowly (my arthritic feet, Wendie’s broken ankle) and what should I spy on the floor but a lonely iPhone.
Fearing it would get stepped on, I snatched it up and spoke to the vendor immediately beside me giving her my name and cell phone number in case the owner came looking, meanwhile fully intending to turn the phone in at the Management Office at my first opportunity. I also went through the contacts in the phone and found “home”, so I called and left a message with my name and cell – just in case someone at home could get a message to someone at the Cottage Show.
Shortly after that, I found a security guard and turned the phone in.
You might ask, why did I go to all that trouble? Well, many years ago, my husband lost a brand new cell phone at the Royal Agricultural Winter Fair while playing (rough housing really) with our grandson. It was never recovered despite reporting it to the Management Office and calling them daily. And at another time, I witnessed a purse snatching and managed to get the perpetrator’s license plate and the make and model of his car. I found the woman who’s wallet had been taken and gave her the information. When she asked me why I had gone to the trouble, and I told her “my 14 year old daughter is missing and she has mononucleosis; her friends know where she is but no one will help us find her.” Then I left without telling her who I was.
So, the incident at the Cottage Life Show was weeks ago. Yesterday my cell rang from a phone number I didn’t recognize. When I answered the phone a woman I had never talked to before said “Hi, this is Darlene, is this Liz?” When I identified myself she said “Oh thank you SO much for returning my husband’s phone. He was beside himself when he realized he had lost it; it was brand new”. We chatted for a little while and she thanked me repeatedly. Turns out they never expected to see the phone again.
It’s a sad commentary on this day and age when the expected is the wrong response: That Darlene and her husband were more sure they would never see the phone again because someone would abscond with it as opposed to that they would see the phone again because someone would turn it in.
What have we turned into?