Larissa and I left the Fair on the last day. She took her bus ticket out of her purse to pay for the bus. When we got off, we went to a pretty shoe store (I was on a mission!), then she gave her food to a homeless couple on the sidewalk because she was leaving the next day and couldn't take it with her. We then returned to our flat where she was going to hang out with us until it was time to go to the airport to catch her flight at 6:00am the next morning (leaving our flat at midnight or some such). But when we got back to the flat, Larissa made the terrible discovery that she no longer had her purse... the one with her passport and credit cards in it!
We tried not to panic. First, we backtracked our steps, back to the homeless couple, and back to the shoe store. No luck. If she'd left it at the Fair, that would be a nightmare. But then, possibly worse, she remembered pulling her ticket from her purse on the bus. The "28" bus to be exact. Would it help to call the bus company, knowing full well that most people in Bologna don't speak English? No.
Dorothia and Jim stayed at the flat repeating the prayer to St. Anthony: Tony, Tony, look around. something's lost that must be found.
Obviously, you can't travel internationally without your passport and the nearest US consulate (we learned) is in Florence, a train ride away. What to do!? It was time to go to the police.
The first location Google sent us to turned out to be closed and the woman on the door's speaker sent us elsewhere. We tried to stay in good spirits as we walked, but of course, Larissa was wondering if she should cancel her flight and all her credit cards and wondering how in the world she would get anywhere with the remaining cash she had. Meanwhile, I was worrying about the responsibility of the university. Did I need to cancel my flight and make sure she got to the consulate to get home?
We made it to the correct police station where the very nice officer asked Larissa to fill out a detailed report. She did that and we talked about her options. We didn't know if the purse had been stolen or simply lost, so there wasn't anything more the police could do. We didn't want to leave, because it felt like giving up, or heading into much bigger challenges.
Just then a woman walked into the building, looked at Larissa and asked, "Are you Ms. Powers? I have your purse."
WHAT!!!???
OMG!!! We fell apart, almost fainted, checked her for wings sprouting out of her back. Certainly, she had a halo!
As it turned out, the purse ended up somehow on the seat of the woman's scooter. We have no idea how it got there, but thank goodness it did. Because this generous soul did not wait until the next day to do something about finding the purse, she went straight to the police station. If our walks had been off by five minutes, we would have missed her. A talented author couldn't have written a better scene. (Although a friend pointed out that noone would ever write a scene like that because it was too unbelievable.)
I made sure Larissa got her name and contact info: Stella. Of course her name meant "Star" - star from above!
Needless to say, we were ecstatic and greatly relieved. And ended up with one heck of a story to share!
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