The Package

I arrived home from a long day yesterday and climbed the pathway to my front porch. As I approached the door I noticed a brown package lying there. It was a medium sized box but quite light to lift. I assumed it was something I had ordered recently and took it with me into the house. Visually scanning the address label I was crestfallen to find the UPS man had delivered a package to the wrong address. The package wasn't for me! I knew the intended recipient, a gentleman according the label, wasn't too far away because his address was on my street. "What now?", I thought. Luckily, the addressee's phone number was included with the address. I decided to call the man and figure out where he was so I could deliver the package to him.

The phone rang once. Then a couple more times. A lady answered. She sounded nice, calm and collected. "Hello, is this the Townsend's" (name altered), I asked. "May I speak to "Mr. Townsend, please?" The lady kindly called her husband and I proceeded to tell him about the errant package. Sure enough, he had been expecting it that day. Then the quandry began. "Where exactly are you on this street"? , I asked. "Near the gas station at the top of the hill", he replied. I was stumped. I didn't know of a single gas station on my street. We tried different ways of explaining our locations but we were getting nowhere fast. Finally, I came to realize that my street, despite being intesected by a major highway, continued on the other side of the highway. Our houses were actually within view of each other! With that out of the way, I offered to take the package over to him. Mr. Townsend would have none of it, but insisted on riding his bike over to pick it up himself. Fine. He sounded like a younger to middle aged man. "He probably likes to excersie", I thought. Fine with me.

The sun was beginning to sink into the last glimmering moments of a brilliant spring day. I had been peering out the window now and then to see when Mr. Townsend would arrive on his bike. Then I saw him out by the street talking to the neighbors. I picked up the box and walked out to meet them. I was surprised to see he was an older man. I guess because I don't see too many older people riding bikes these days. We talked a bit, and I found out that he had a past connection to my house. His uncle once lived here. In fact, he had relatives living in several houses around my vicinity over time. He talked about how things changed when the highway was built through the area in the 1950's or 60's. He seemed very nice and we had a good chat. It was almost like we had known each other for a long time.

It's funny how little, common, troublesome things can sometimes turn into measures of enrichment and enlightenment; little mistakes that lead to big discoveries. So, I guess it's alright if one messes up once in a while. Who knows what good it might do.

Now, I wonder who has my mail package?