It was Sunday, the 21st of January. My husband and I were preparing to go to Amsterdam. We reached, explored the city, roamed around, and did some shopping before heading to an Indian restaurant for dinner. We were supposed to board a train from the main square, Dam square.
Now, everyone knows how crowded Dam square gets, especially on a Sunday evening. We had 12 minutes until our train arrived, so we were sitting at the station, chatting away. It was so cold that our hands barely came out of our jackets.
When the train arrived, two came at once, meaning one behind the other, and we had to catch the one behind. In the rush, I ended up causing a big incident: I left my bag at the station. Now, those who know me know how responsible and careful I usually am in such matters. Whether it was bad luck, the extreme cold, or the haste to catch the train, whatever you call it, the incident happened.
As we were about to reach our destination, my naive heart reminded me to check if we had taken everything. That's when we realized what had happened. We got off the train, panicked and scared, trying to remember where we had left the bag. We opened our shopping bags in hopes of finding it, but it was gone. I was in tears, praying to god like a maniac, as we made our way back to Dam square, where it all started. But how would we find a lost item so easily? The thrill of losing something is incomparable, isn't it?
We couldn't find the bag. We gathered ourselves, blocked all my Indian and Dutch bank cards, and even though we were doing all this, subconsciously, I was still praying to God, making promises, and trying to win His favor.
My husband suggested filing a complaint with the police, so we found the nearest police station, which was three stops away. We had to again board a train from Dam square, where it all began. We were supposed to get off after three stops, but we got off after just one stop because my husband misunderstood the station. He was about to board the train again when I stopped him, saying if we got off here, there must be a reason.
I had a gut feeling that we were here for a reason. And what happened next? Right in front of the train stop, we saw a police station. As we were halfway done filling out a complaint form, an officer called us and started enquiring for details about my bag. And then, they handed us our bag.
YES! the bag I had lost was right in front of us.
Apparently, a person named Alex from Greece had found our bag in Dam square and reported it to the police. I was overwhelmed with happiness and started crying tears of joy. I immediately looked up and thanked HIM because i knew some superior power was watching over me😊
The officer called Alex, and we thanked him from the bottom of our hearts. With blessings for Alex, a lesson that we learnt and strengthened faith, we took my bag and left the police station.
This was a strange incident, nothing short of a miracle. We were headed elsewhere, but due to a mistake, we ended up somewhere else, where we found our bag. That's the work of the higher power. How grateful I am, only I know.
So, this was a fun incident that happened to us which is now registered as a thrilling memory in our minds.
Thank you Alex, if you’re reading this ❤️
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| My Bagwati 🥲 |
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