Today as we were leaving to go grocery shopping, a kid ("kid" being the word I apparently use to describe anyone under thirty now, a sure sign of getting old - 'scuse me, "mature") on a motorcycle pulled up; I thought maybe he needed directions or something. Nope. He had found my husband's wallet in the street BLOCKS away from our house and was returning it.
How terrific is that?
Faith in humanity, reaffirmed.
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