The Lost Bike Bag -Emily List
The sun was smiling bright upon my face. It was the perfect early autumn Saturday morning as I cycled to work. I had my earphones in and was motivated with every push of my pedal by the upbeat jams my weekend playlist was bringing me. This, I thought, was going to be a good day. As I crossed the bridge heading into downtown, I was periodically checking behind me to see if my bike bag was still securely fastened with the bungee cords. With the warmth of the sun today, I didn’t want strapped onto my back to create unnecessary perspiration. I was hitting all the green lights. As I neared the street to my work, I glanced behind me one last time. My bright pink bike bag was gone. I was listening to music so my phone was in my front jean pocket, but my wallet and all the rest of my personal belongings were in the bag (including a change of clothes, as I was in a sheer work out tank). Shocked, I called my boss that my bag fell off my bike, and I was going to backtrack to see if I could find it. Although I doubted it. This was a bustling Saturday downtown with people walking everywhere. My boss (I’m sure attempting to calm me down) told me, “Emily I have a good feeling about this. Someone will find it and return it to you.” I wanted to believe him, but every mile I backtracked that belief was becoming more of a distant dream than an actual reality. I cried on and off as I back-tracked a good five miles. I prayed. I prayed hard. Despaired, I gave up and biked back to work. I tried to make the best of it and not be self-conscious of my tear-stained face and the sweaty sheer tank top I was wearing. Fast forward four hours. After filing a police report on my lost bag and canceling all my cards, I take a break to check Facebook. I see someone has commented on my cover photo. Weird, I thought, that picture is old. I read the comment. This lady left a message because it was the only part of my Facebook that was ‘public.’ She had my bike bag with all the contents in it. She included the number to call so I could pick it up. I quite literally yelled in shocked elation; so much so customers turned my way in inquiry. I never dashed out of a building faster. I briskly walked to the address the lady gave me over the phone. It was a drug rehabilitation center. The man and woman working there had gone through my wallet to find my name and contacted me via Facebook. The man said he was about to return the bag to the address on my driver’s license. They told me one of their clients picked it up after he saw it fall off my bike and gave it to them. I examined the bag inside and out. Everything was there. Tears of a different kind were now streaming down my face. God truly does answer prayers and still puts Good Samaritans in this world to remind us of that.
Shared & written by: Emily List, Portland OR.