It's here, it's here. My precious, precious home study. Waiting for me in my mailbox like a valentine. Forgive the sentimentality, but these forms begin to take on a life of there own, especially as they are linked so deeply to the getting of your own little life.
I raced to the post office to get it to my agency toute suite. While completing my transaction, a mom with baby carriage struggled to get in the door. I held it for her and she handed the clerk a $20 that she said she found in the parking lot and that someone had probably dropped. The sales clerk and I both looked at each other astonished and then back at the mom as she exited with me holding the door. "You are such a good person..." was the only weak comment I could manage. She just shrugged and went on her mommy little way. The sales clerk says to me "What am I supposed to do with it? Nobody is coming back for this, they probably don't even know they dropped it." I agreed with her and again expressed my amazement that this woman would take the trouble, baby carriage and all, to turn the bill in. The clerk said, "It breaks my heart that there are such good people out there. People who are so much better than me. " It does break your heart. In a good, heart-breaking way.
I hope whoever dropped that bill comes back in for it and realizes that sometimes life IS fair. Or if nobody does come back for it, I hope that sales clerk gives it to someone who needs it more than she does. Or if she needs it, then I'm glad it came to her. I took the whole event as a very good omen as I sent my life history with stamps and seals and degrees from a myriad of different people on why I would make a good parent off to my adoption agency.
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