This afternoon, my phone rang.

“Hello?”
“Yes, is this White Horse Girl?”
“…yes?”
“And did you go to New Orleans University?”
“……yes?”
“And are you in New City right now?”
“…who is this?”
“Oh, this is Angel from the Hospital Public Safety. We found your keys.”
“I’m sorry, what?”

At this point, I scrambled through my purse to establish that, in fact, my keys were missing. We were in BWB’s car, and had long since left the hospital lot, so I had no idea they weren’t still safely tucked in. I still have no idea how they fell out, but lo and behold, they had.

“Yes, well, it was quite difficult to find you. See, I saw your name on your keyring there, and I looked but I just couldn’t find you in our system. So then I saw the New Orleans University gym tag, and I called them. And they wouldn’t tell me anything, and I said, oh but I have her keys! See I have her name and her ID number — I bet she’s even a doctor now, isn’t that right? Or a nurse or something? And they said yes… and they finally gave me your phone number. I had to convince them, though, they didn’t want to give it to me.”

Yes, that’s right. This amazing, sweet woman who works in public safety at the hospital administration building not only found my keys, but when she couldn’t find me in her system, made a long distance phone call to coax my phone number out of my former university, based on the keyring favor I had made for my wedding party and the tag to the university gym.

I am flabbergasted, to say the least. Amazed that she cared so much and was willing to go to such lengths for someone she’d never even met. It’s touching, and it makes me feel good to know that people like her still exist in this world.

How’s that for a warm fuzzy?

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