Everything happens for a reason, and perhaps the fact that I’ve not done a Random Act of Cakeness recently, circumstances gave a gentle reminder…
I am famous for making lists. If I’m not baking or decorating a cake I am quite possibly writing a list or getting satisfaction from striking things off my to-do list.
Two days ago I had a meeting in town and as usual, took my trusty notebook with me. After my meeting, I made several detours before heading home. Could you believe my horror when I got home and realised I did not have my notebook and my plastic folder. I immediately got onto the phone and called all the places I’d been to, but no one had seen my folder. My last hope was the local library, but they would not be open until the next day.
The next morning, I called the library and sadly, a plastic folder had not been handed in. I was felt quite bad, but more annoyed with myself for being so careless. Within an hour I was writing a list on a post-it note and item number one was buy a new notepad.
Two hours later, I received an email from a photographer I’d worked with three months ago. She’d received a phone call from a chap called Otto who had found a plastic folder with a notebook. Inside the notebook was her number. After a few minutes of detective work, she realised the notebook had belonged to me. The email had Otto’s contact number for me to make contact with him.
I got on the phone and called Otto. He had found my plastic folder in the area I had my meeting. He mentioned that he had lost several things in the past that may have seemed meaningless to other people, but were of high value and importance to him. No one had ever called or returned any items he had ever lost, so Otto decided to turn things around. He decided that the next time he saw something that looked like lost property; he would do his best to return it to the rightful owner. Hence his phone call to my photographer friend. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. We arranged to meet later that evening at a tube station that was convenient to both of us. How could I ever thank him for taking the time out to do this random act of kindness towards me?
6.30pm, I stood at the station with a boxed cupcake in my hand, waiting eagerly for Otto. Passers by must have assumed I was about to embark on a blind date. I felt like the final scenes in Sleepless in Seattle. Otto stepped through the ticket barrier with my folder in his hand. We shook hands (I really wanted to hug him), he handed over the folder, I thanked him and we had a little chat. I handed him the cupcake, which he bashfully accepted and then he was on his way. I held my folder tightly on the remainder of the journey home and my faith in mankind was restored. I may never meet Otto again, but I’m still very thankful to him. Thanks Otto.