A single act of kindness reminded me that, despite so much evidence to the contrary, the better angels of our nature are not necessarily doomed
P
erhaps you are searching for reasons to be cheerful at the end of what has been a particularly dispiriting year? In that case, read on. In November, I was on a train travelling into London. When I got off the train and headed for the ticket barrier, I realised I didn’t have my wallet. I knew that I had had it when I boarded. I made an undignified scrabble and search through my coat, jacket and trouser pockets that deserved the comic skills of a Charlie Chaplin or Jacques Tati. There was, though, no mistake. I had somehow managed to leave my wallet on the train.
A nice station attendant took the details and said he would pass the message down the line. I left him my mobile number. But it was rush hour, the man pointed out, and the chances of getting the wallet back had probably vanished with the departing train. Meanwhile I rang my bank and eventually succeeded in cancelling my cards. I felt horribly stupid, old and embarrassed. I went for a drink with friends and felt sorry for myself.
A couple of hours later, I looked at my phone. Among my emails was one from a woman called Natalya. She had found my wallet on the train, she explained, and had already dropped it off with the security people at the Guardian’s office. Everything was intact, including the cards and some cash. She had seen the Guardian connection because of my National Union of Journalists card, and had taken the not inconsiderable trouble to go to the office and hand the wallet in.
