One lost wallet.
One million and three hundred thousand passengers.
One honest soul, and a team of dedicated professionals.
One ecstatically grateful woman.
The latter is me.
Last month, my husband Ed and I embarked on a week-long Alaskan cruise, followed by a visit to my Uncle Caesar Reyes and his wife Mattie in San Francisco, and to my sister Mae in Anaheim. Alaska was awesome, the bonding with relatives, priceless.
Travelling with one’s partner can either strengthen one’s relationship, or make one want to take another vacation — alone. In our case, travelling together has always been a highlight of our marriage. Though there are the expected snags that come from being with each other virtually 24/7, travelling together is like a loom that spins many happy memories for Ed and me.
So after a near-perfect vacation, our wallets almost empty but our hearts filled to the brim, we headed with mixed feelings for the Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) last May 30 for our trip back home. We didn’t like our holiday to end, but we were also eager to be reunited with our son Chino.
Checking in at the Philippine Airlines (PAL) counter was a breeze because we were early and the usual security checks were something we were prepared for. After some snacks at the lounge, we headed for Boarding Gate 101 for PR 103 to Manila. On our way to the boarding gate, I spotted a magazine stand and was about to get off the walkalator but changed my mind because I could see Ed was in a hurry. As we neared Boarding Gate 101, another magazine stand, Crews of California, caught my attention, and when I saw who was on the cover of Vanity Fair (Brad Pitt, who else could be more arresting?), well, I just decided with my feet. I got off the walkalator (Ed gave me an understanding glance), plucked Brad Pitt off the shelf and paid for my purchase.
Since I had to present my boarding pass to make the purchase, I took out my passport and gave the boarding pass sandwiched by its pages. I made a mental note NOT to forget to return my passport to my bag after the cashier rang up the purchase. It was all of $5 and so I took out my wallet and paid in cash. With Brad and my passport back in the bag, I made a dash for Gate 101.
It was a smooth flight under the care of PAL’s solicitous flight attendants. I slept nine hours straight, and woke up to the smell of brewed coffee, which I had with gourmet tuyo and omelet.
When the flight attendants pushed the Duty Free trolley down the aisle, I was tempted to take out my wallet to buy some pasalubong. I changed my mind.
Retrieving our luggage and going past Customs in Manila was hassle-free and even the humid May air that greeted us outside the airport terminal was welcome. I saw the Duty Free store in the arrival area and this time knew it was my last chance to buy some pasalubong.
I took out my passport and boarding pass and lay them on the counter. I then fished for my wallet. And fished some more. But my wallet was not in the depths of my bag.
It was gone.
***
“What a spoiler!†Ed said when we got home. I felt awful. A lost wallet isn’t a good way to punctuate a happy trip, even a bad trip for that matter. I just consoled myself with the fact that I didn’t have much cash left in it. And that I had immediately reported the loss of my credit and ATM cards to their respective banks. I tried to go on with my life and I tried to detach myself from my wallet. But with all my ID cards and other personal effects in there, I felt like I had opened my home to strangers.
I wracked my brains trying to remember where I had left my wallet. The thought also crossed my mind that in the few times my bag was unzipped, someone could have picked it from my bag. I could also have dropped it on the plane. But most likely, I had left it where I found Brad.
Wisely, very wisely, I reported the loss to Cielo Villaluna of the PAL Corporate Communications Office. With the help of Eya Prospero, also of the Corporate Communications Office, Cielo lost no time in making the appropriate inquiries. Within the day, she reported to me that sadly, the wallet wasn’t left on the plane. But she was already in touch with the PAL office at LAX headed by station manager Rex Aldanese.
“Let’s keep our fingers crossed, Joanne,†she told me. What I appreciate with Cielo and the PAL staff at LAX was that they didn’t dismiss the wallet as a lost cause. It was like finding a needle in a haystack but they made me feel it was worth the search, and that they were willing to go through the haystack with me.
A total of 1.3 million passengers go through LAX every day, half of them in the international terminals. Anybody, but anybody could have picked up that wallet. Still, PAL and my sister Mae filed a report with the LAX Lost and Found office.
I prayed, too. That Sunday, June 2, I prayed to God, to St. Anthony and to St. Jude (who Catholics like me believe intercede for those who have lost things) for the return of my wallet. I remember thinking that though my prayer for the recovery of my wallet may be a small, insignificant plea compared to the prayers of other people who have more pressing, life-altering petitions, my prayer will still reach God’s ears. And He grants favors big and small. We may not deserve all the answered prayers He grants us, but He gives them to us anyway. A lost set of keys may be ho-hum to others, but to the one who finds them after a prayer, they’re like the Prodigal Son.
I expected the worst but prayed for the best. Days passed. I found myself a new wallet. I got my replacement credit and ATM cards.
I had lifted the loss, a material loss admittedly, to God. I started reviewing the photos of our Alaskan cruise and told myself that nothing could steal from me the joy of that experience. I had seen God in the magnificence of nature during that trip. I wasn’t about to lose the faith now.
On June 4, three days after I reported the loss of the wallet, I got a text from Eya: “We have good news for you. Your wallet was retrieved at LAX Airport!â€
The needle was found in the giant haystack that is LAX!
***
We are supposed to be detached from our material possessions, and truly, we should try to be. But when my wallet was found, I recovered more than just a piece of leather. I rediscovered the intrinsic goodness of man, his innate honesty. I beheld the efficiency of a system. I learned that one should never be daunted by a task. Nothing is impossible and impossible is nothing. I witnessed those phrases.
On June 6, I got a letter from LAX Police asking for a postal address where they could send a check equivalent to the monetary contents of my wallet. Then they proceeded to itemize all the cash that was in it, down to the last American cent and Philippine centavo. I was nothing short of amazed.
The day before the feast of St. Anthony (June 13), I got word from Eya that my wallet was already in the PAL Corporate Communications Office in Manila. The wallet travelled 11,759 kilometers from LAX, and every step of the way, someone from PAL was updating me about its location. Sometimes, I felt like it was as precious as a donor heart in transit. Perhaps it is — because it gave life to the fact that there are indeed many good people in this world.
Last Friday, two weeks after I left the wallet behind at LAX, I got it back. Everything was as I had left it — down to my Mercury Drug Suki card and Victoria’s Secret discount card.
The wallet is now snugly back in my bag — with Brad Pitt.
(You may e-mail me at joanneraeramirez@yahoo.com.)