The Mythical Box of Books Appears

You may recall the missing box of books that the post office said they delivered. I figured I would wait for the thaw and the MLK holiday to pass, just to make sure they didn't get delivered over the weekend, and I would call them first thing Tuesday morning to see what needed to be done. Friday came and went, Saturday came and went. We got mail both days, but still no box. My husband spent Saturday evening with several other men on our street manually clearing the street of the finally thawing ice so an older gentleman who lives at the bottom of the hill would be able to leave his house for the first time in a week. I went out to check on them, and we both came back into the house through the front door 5:15 PM Saturday. No box.

So you can imagine my surprise when I opened the door Sunday afternoon to take a picture of the mostly-gone snow and there is a box sitting there! The USPS does not deliver on Sundays. How did it get there? All I can figure is that the box was delivered to the wrong house, and the recipient was kind enough to deliver it to the correct address sometime Sunday morning. They didn't have to do that. They could have kept the box and its contents, or they could have sent it back via the post office as an incorrect delivery and who knows how long it would have take to get back to me. Instead, they took the time and effort to personally bring it here. I wish they had knocked on the door. I'd have liked to thank them.

Currently feeling: the goodness of others