Araceli Collazo's Music Studio

Finders Keepers? A Reflection on Serendipity and Integrity

As I was leaving our local post office on a brisk April day in 2022, I decided to surrender to the gentle warmth of the sun rather than hurry back to my car. The recent upheaval in my life—leaving my job, relocating my small family—had been draining. I felt compelled to absorb the soothing caress of the sun and the quaint charm of the historic downtown.

During my stroll, I noticed a young mother in vivid, puffy slippers pushing a stroller. My pace slowed, aligning with hers, allowing me to enjoy the moment further. Then, something unexpected caught my eye: a white envelope on the sidewalk, seemingly misplaced or discarded. Driven by an invisible nudge, I picked it up, discovering inside not only a pay stub but a stack of $100 bills totaling $1,400.

The discovery presented a dilemma that tested my values more profoundly than I could have anticipated. The pay stub bore a name and an address, hinting at the rightful owner—a stark contrast to my own financial uncertainties, amplified by a recent job loss and the precariousness of my family's situation.

Yet, the thought of keeping the money briefly entertained, quickly dissipated. It was clear what I had to do. After a brief pause on a crooked bench outside a thrift shop, I tucked the envelope safely into my bag, determined to return it.

As the sun dipped and the hustle of people watching waned, I felt a pull towards the familiar comfort of our art studio nestled in Heritage Square, Oxnard. My family awaited me there—my husband and son who had both been anchors amid our turbulent times. Once I arrived, the mysterious envelope, heavy with both currency and curiosity, was promptly revealed to them. 

My husband, the consummate amateur detective, wasted no time in examining its contents. He unfolded the pay stub that nestled among the stack of crisp $100 bills I had recounted earlier. His fingers flew over his phone as he Googled the name printed boldly across the top. A spark of recognition lit his eyes as he declared, "This is a Hollywood actor!" Skepticism overtook me as he scoured social media for confirmation, only to find no digital footprint of the supposed actor.

Doubt mingled with intrigue as he turned his phone to me, displaying a photo of the actor. The image seemed to leap from the screen—a familiar face from blockbuster films, surely not one to drive trucks for a living. "No way! That's just a coincidence," I protested. Yet, my husband, buoyed by his find, insisted on the unlikely connection, convinced that the name on the stub and the face on the screen were one and the same. As I peered at the photograph, the absurdity and wonder of the situation enveloped us in a bubble of mystery and possibility.

The journey to reconnect the envelope with its owner took me to Ventura, where I met the man—a truck driver whose physical presence bore little resemblance to the Hollywood actor my husband had excitedly presumed him to be. The moment of return was simple yet profound. He offered me a $200.00 finder's fee, a gesture I initially entertained but ultimately declined. This wasn't about monetary reward but about integrity, a value deeply ingrained in me and now, unexpectedly, a testament to my character.

The interaction concluded with an exchange of gratitude and an invitation to the local community theater where my family indulged in artistic expression. In a whimsical twist, the man confirmed that he too was an actor and gifted dedicated photos to us, a token that symbolized the serendipitous connections life occasionally bestows upon us.

Reflecting on this experience, I ponder the myriad of what-ifs. What if the pay stub hadn't been there? What decisions would desperation have driven me to? The envelope not only contained money but also a test of my ethics, one that I passed, reaffirming my sense of self and restoring my faith in the value of doing the right thing.

This story isn't just about a lost envelope or the money it contained. It's a narrative about life's unexpected moments that ask us to define who we are and what we stand for. As I continue to share this story, it serves as a reminder that sometimes, the right choices lead to the most rewarding outcomes, not just in fortune, but in the richness of integrity.

A Chronicle by Araceli Collazo

Based on a True Story

Style Correction and  Editing by Diamond (Michael) Scott

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