Faith in Humanity
I am not a religious person, nor would I consider myself
very spiritual. In fact, on the surface, I am a pretty skeptical person,
especially with those who I do not yet know. I can be reluctant to let newcomers
in. Yet deep down, I have this faith in humanity.
In times of crisis, we see people at their best. We also, unfortunately,
see people at their worst. Weeks ago, when I was still in NYC contemplating if I
should join my mom at her house on Long Island, a few people around me were
worried about increased crime in the city. Will people start looting the
shuttered shops? Will those who were laid off turn to other means to pay their
rent, feed their children, or keep their lights on?
I can’t say this played a big role in my ultimate decision
to join my mom, but I will tell you this. Crime in NYC is actually down. And my
‘uber safe’ neighborhood on Long Island? I’ve heard cases of cars being broken
into on the quiet suburban streets, and within my first days here, had my own
terrifying encounter going to pick-up dinner one night where a man persisted to
get into my car WHILE I was in it. It happened. I’m fine. That story is not the
point of this post.
Over the last few weeks my mom and I stumbled upon a series from
France called A French Village. Over the course of 7 seasons, we get to know
the people of Villeneuve, France as they survive the German occupation of the
country, and their small village throughout the duration on WWII. We’re currently
in the middle of season 3, which takes place in 1942. We’re hooked, even though
we know, ultimately, what will happen and how this story ends.
Even still, the show is tantalizing. I can’t help but think
that part of the reason for that is how the writers develop these characters.
You see the demise of several locals as they sheepishly give way to their
occupiers and turn their backs on their neighbors and friends. But you also see
the rise of heroes and heroines who risk everything to join the resistance. It’s
humanity persisting at its best. You can’t help but cheer for them when they go
on their dangerous missions. You breathe a sigh of relief when they succeed;
you sit and contemplate ‘why’ when they don’t. But whatever happens, it’s this
idea of faith in humanity that keeps you hanging on, coming back for more.
There’s a famous quote from Anne Frank that always sticks in
the back of my mind: “I still believe, in
spite of everything, that people are really good at heart.”
Those hallowing words, decades later, still ring true.
What am I getting at here? Honestly, I do not know. I sat
down to write this blog to share a funny anecdote about a lady in Florida on a
mission to return a driver’s license to its rightful owner. So, I guess faith
in humanity can take on many different meanings. It wears many different hats.
At some point in mid-April I received a notification that I had
a message on Facebook. I rarely check my Facebook these days, but curious by
the message, I went to take a quick look. I didn’t recognize the name – we weren’t
connected as friends and from the first few lines of the message – something
about a lost Driver’s License – I automatically assumed it was someone who had
been hacked, or was trying to hack me. So, the skeptic in me ignored it and
closed out of the site.
A few days later, my birthday rolled around. I received some
messages over the course of the day from friends near and far, so headed back
to Facebook and something about the message again caught my eye. I clicked on
the lady’s profile – one mutual friend. Interesting.
Our mutual friend was a good friend of my sister’s, so I texted
her to ask her friend who this person is and if the message was legit. Almost
instantaneously my sister wrote back, sharing that the lady who messaged me was
a cousin of her friend, but her account had been hacked before, so just ignore
it. However, she was going to contact her cousin to ask if she was, indeed,
behind this.
Turns out, she was! Here’s what the message said:
Dayna.. I found your
expired driver’s license (expired 4/30/17) on Deerfield Beach the other day. Interesting
to see when and where you lost it.....like message in a bottle. Message me...
Huh. My ID? In Florida? But I never lost an ID. Ever. It was
issued in 2009, and expired in 2017. Did I lose it years ago and just forgot?
Still super skeptical, I wrote to her to find out more. Most
importantly, where did she find it?
Then the story gets better. My new Facebook Messenger-pal
told me she was doing her daily routine beach walk when she noticed something floating.
My ID literally had washed up on the shore. Like a message in a bottle, she was
so intrigued and determined to connect and return it to its rightful owner.
She asked a few questions back: Was I ever in Florida at
Deerfield Beach?
I was in Florida dozens of times over those year visiting my
grandparents and seeing friends. Could it have been dropped then? But I still
swear I never lost an ID. Wouldn’t I remember? And also, I never was in
Deerfield Beach, although I did spend a lot of time north in Boca and south in
Ft. Lauderdale and Miami.
Then she asked: How far do you think this license traveled?
And that’s when it hit me.
When I moved to the Netherlands, I gave up my US ID in February
2017 in order to get my Dutch ID. If this ID was set to expire in 2017, this
would’ve been the only ID I had at the time to give up. It was my current
license. Could this have been the ID that was turned over to the Dutch
government? It actually had to be…
So how far did this ID travel? Across the Atlantic! Truly incredible.
My new friend insisted on sending the ID back to me. In
fact, in our last correspondence, she ended with “I’m sure it has a story to
tell...”
And so it does.
Perhaps a bigger story than what I initially intended to
share today. Perhaps.