Faith and Finders Keepers

This morning, as I was carrying the piles of clean laundry to their respective rooms (my Sunday night stamina generally lasts through the sorting and the washing and the drying and the folding, but not through the delivery!), I discovered that a significant part of my son's baseball uniform--the pricey heart-guard shirt we were given after we'd bought another--was missing. In my attempt to protect it from the hot-beyond-hot dryer, I had hung it over a laundry room cart. Problem was, it never made it back upstairs with me. So at 7am, I was back to the basement laundry room, hoping against hope that we wouldn't be on a baseball equipment mission later this week. And as I entered the laundry room, I spotted a glimmer of white hanging among the fleet of carts. The shirt was there, just waiting for me to come back and get it.
 
Obviously, I am happy about not having to run the errand, and happy about not having to spend the money. But, in that moment, all I could think was that there is something nice about a world (well, at least a building laundry room) in which your things get left for you, in which they don't just disappear because you made the mistake of leaving them. Our laundry room is a well-traveled spot on Sunday nights. Yet, no one took home our shirt.
 
Believe me, I realize that I was lucky. I realize that perhaps more often than not, things left WILL disappear. It's not that I'm planning to trust completely in honesty and people's ability to resist an attitude of "finders, keepers." This was just a good way to start a Monday--with a little more faith in people, and with one less errand to add to an already busy week.