On Shabbos I was in my father’s house in Kiryat Sanz, Netanya, and on Motzaei Shabbos I went out in the direction of the bus stop in order to get on the bus to Yerushalayim and go home. I went out too late. It takes about ten minutes to walk from my father’s house to the bus stop, and I saw that the bus would be coming in another two minutes. I knew that if I didn’t make this bus I would need to wait a long time until the next one came along.
As soon as I went out, I saw a Yid inside a parked car near my father’s home. I asked him, “Can you give me a ride to the bus stop? The bus is supposed to come in two minutes.”
“Gladly,” the Yid answered with a smile, and immediately drove me to the bus stop. We arrived before the bus got there.
The minute he opened the door of the car, a Yid holding a handbag walked over and asked him, “Are you from around here? Perhaps you know the person whose handbag this is?”
The handbag had a family name written on it.
The man who had driven me looked at the handbag and said, “This is my sister’s last name. She was with me for Shabbos just last week!”
It was amazing. He helped me get to the bus stop, and in the zechus of his chessed, he was zocheh to return the handbag to his sister.
