A paragraph in Dutch greeted my eyes and I pressed the translate almost like a reflex. Your wallet is found by Mr. Rijnen it said. With no reason, I reached for my pocket to find that it was indeed gone. Recollecting the dash at the signal, I let out a sigh of relief and called the number in the mail. A short ride later, I picked up the wallet and profusely thanked him. Mentally making a note to be extra careful, I tucked it away safely. My apprehensions and preconceived notions of Eindhoven began to slowly fade. “It has everything a place can have, I don’t find a reason for you to sulk”, a friend had told me on a recent visit. The kindness from a stranger shook my perception of the city I’ve been sulking about.

Long nights ahead, I reminded myself as I pushed the door to the bike shed. Reaching to ensure for the wallet, a dry scream hit my throat. Stifling it, I found that it was gone again. But I was biking cautiously, I defended myself. Twice on the same day!! With utter disbelief and an hour of futile effort looking through the paths, I went to the Police station to report the loss. Folding the report, I looked up at the midnight skies. Tomorrow might be different, I consoled myself and trudged back home. The unfamiliar beep woke me up. Another Dutch email. Mr. Woning this time!

And as I picked the phone to dial the number, I stared into the morning rays with resilient glee and gratitude, for the quaint city turned out to be the place where humanity and kindness coexist.

To Mr. Rijnen and Mr. Woning: Gratitude is the language of the soul: Thank you!