A Christmas Miracle

Going green this Christmas, I decided to do all of my Christmas shopping on the scooter. My pink knit hat firmly placed under my helmet and scarf tucked in my sweater and jacket, I zipped around the city for my various errands. My favorite moment was driving between construction cones to the sounds of angry drivers honking as I dodged traffic and parked on the sidewalk in front of the Fox to get my tickets to the Nutcracker.

A couple of soft toys purchased at IKEA, shirt boxes and all sorts of unimaginable crap from Target, and wine from Trader Joe's—everything was crammed below the seat of the bike or hanging from the bag hooks below the handle bars. I had done well. One stop at the bank to deposit a check and I dashed home.

Only when I got in front of my apartment building, I couldn't get inside the gate. I couldn't get inside my gate because I couldn't find my wallet, where my gate card was tucked away. I hopped off the scooter and dug through my bags and nothing. No wallet and no keys. The last time I saw my wallet was at the bank...

I have never ridden a scooter so hard and so fast in my life as I did from my apartment building back to the bank.

I searched through the parking lot and didn't find it. I thought back to everyone I saw walking around: the child who was picking up things off the ground and her mother, the movers unloading a pickup truck parked across the street. Someone probably saw it and snatched it. I don't carry cash, so I wasn't out any actual money. I just had to cancel my debit card, have my mother drive my replacement car keys to my apartment, and be out one loved Coach wallet.

Dejected, I called Boyfriend.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"I'm at the Wachovia on Juniper. I didn't see it on my way back, but a few of the roads are one-way, so I haven't retraced every step yet."

"Don't move. I'm on my way."

A couple of minutes later, Boyfriend pulled up next to me on his scooter. After lecturing me on the importance of zipping up your jacket pockets so things like wallets and cell phones don't fall out, he drove down Juniper looking for my wallet .

I had barely pulled out myself when he stopped in the middle of the road, reached down, and picked up my wallet and car keys off the road. There is was, laying in the middle of Juniper Street in Midtown untouched, save for a very distinctive tire mark across the front. I opened it up and everything was still inside.

It had been laying in the street for at least 10 minutes and no one stole it. It was a Christmas miracle.