We were so committed with accomplishing our tourist-like schedule that we thought it was not worth it to backtrack all the way for the scarf. Unfortunately, it was one of my favorite scarves - the coziest one - but I did not make a big deal out of it.
That Saturday I was on the phone with mom, casually walking through the same street, and I spotted my beloved scarf. First, I thought it was a mirage, hanging in one of the grids, at the same corner that my mom probably left it. Almost a week after, my scarf was still there. Even with all the rain that fell over Boston this week, it was still there.
Almost a week after, no one has taken it, no one has thrown it away, no one has moved it to somewhere else. Even better, they moved it in order to get it off the ground and make it more visible, hoping that the owner would come back to get it.
The courtesy and civility of the Bostonian people (and I bet a BU student did it) still impresses me. It’s such a relieving feeling when you recover something you thought was already lost. And this time, I do not mean the scarf, but the kindness in this world.