by David D. Horowitz.
“Yes, that’s my foldable luggage cart!”
“Someone brought it in two hours after you checked last time you were here.”
“That was Monday, a week ago. I’m so glad I checked with you and security again! I used it to transport two boxes of books I was selling at a used bookstore here at the mall. While the store employees were checking my books, I bought lunch at QFC. I sat down to eat it in the food court and simply forgot about the cart. I believe I placed it on a chair next to me, but I’m not sure. Regardless, I’m so grateful someone brought it here to the lost-and-found. It’s rather beat-up, but I don’t need an additional expense.”
“I understand,” responded the security guard at Crossroads Mall, as he handed my cart to me. “Have a happy holiday. I’m glad we could help.”
“So am I!”
I clutched my foldable gray luggage cart—a bit marked up and worn down from five years of consistent use—and didn’t let go for the forty-minute bus trip home.
The reappearance of my luggage cart inspired me to believe again in human honesty. I thought I’d check the lost-and-found one last time, seeing as I was visiting the mall anyway to sell another load of books. And there it was, as if by a sort of half-magic. But, just as educated perception can help explain “magic tricks,” so too with the reappearance of my luggage cart. In this case, the person who turned in my cart had likely for years cultivated empathy, not through a magic trick but conscious commitment and thoughtful decisions. Whether or not it was magic that made my luggage cart reappear, I’d be okay with any strategy, magical or not, inspiring greater kindness in American life. If so, start with the small details—like returning a misplaced luggage cart to the appropriate lost-and-found department. As for discussions about abortion, gun control, Ukraine aid, the Middle East, taxes, and inflation—I’d settle for civil and informative exchange. It might not be magic, but given the frequency today of rude exchange, civility might indeed seem like magic.