My son, at the end of a very difficult week in October, lost his wallet on the 62 bus in Dartmouth. Late the next evening, a knock on our door–I’d been sleeping and stumbled out in my furry pink robe. A young man stood there with the wallet his friend had found on the bus. In my sleepy stupor I feel I didn’t properly thank both men for their honesty and kindness. So if you read this–thanks thanks thanks, you two lovely good-hearted young men!
—grateful pink fluffy mom
This article appears in Dec 17-23, 2009.
One time, about ten years ago now when I was about 14 or 15, someone I knew found a wallet at the Commons in Halifax. It had all of the guy’s money and ID inside and everything. My friend, who was a bit older than me, didn’t find him and give it back, though, he took out all the money for himself and chucked the rest of the contents in the garbage. The guy came back a few hours later asking around if anyone had seen his wallet. He asked my friend and he immediately says “nope, sorry man.” He then asks me. At first, I pretend I don’t hear him. He makes sure he gets my attention and asks me louder. I look at him. He’s obviously upset and in distress, my friend is giving me the “if you say anything about this to him I’m going to fucking kill you” look, and I don’t know what to do. What do I say? “Uhh… no. Sorry.” Am I sure about that? “Uhh, yeah… sorry. Good luck.”
This event still bothers me and plays on my conscious to this day!
I’m glad your son got his wallet back and that it was found by these two guys, not by my friend at the time ten years ago.
Did he share the weed and booze with you from that guys wallet? lol
Nah, nothing! And like I said, I did feel bad and still kind of do. I’m sure the guy who lost his wallet is over it, though. If not, at least there are now barriers on the MacDonald Bridge to stop him from jumping.