Some type of sign

Back in the fall, I let anyone who wanted to pick pecans off my lawn. I have five trees. There is no way I would ever be able to use all the pecans they produce. One of my neighbors, Mr. Kalich, would leave me bags of shelled pecans on my front doorstep. It was his way of saying thanks. He wrote me a nice note once introducing himself. I had saved it for a long time, and it had become a bookmark for a book on my coffee table.

Anyway, being the genius that I am, I took said book and bookmark on a plane a couple of weeks ago and proceeded to leave it in the back of the seat in front of me. I have this awful habit of finishing a book on a plane and just forgetting about it when I get off. I was kicking myself this time because I wanted that letter.

I go home, and I find that night on my front porch a back of veggies and potatoes with an address sticker for Mr. Kalich. Every week now, I have been getting bags of garden goodies on my front door step. I'm thinking it was some type of sign with the letter. I was saving it because I wanted it as a reminder about how good people can be, but there in front of me was real physicial evidence.