The Wallet on the Bus

👛 The Wallet on the Bus

It was a rainy Thursday. Tom was on the number 14 bus, thinking about the Manchester match. Tickets were £45, and he only had £28 in his money box. “Maybe next season,” he thought sadly.
When he stood up at his stop, he saw something under the seat in front: a brown leather wallet. He picked it up. Inside there were four twenty-pound notes, a bank card, a library card and an ID card. The photo showed an old woman with white hair. Her name was Edith Brown.
Tom got off the bus and stood in the rain. Eighty pounds. That was a ticket to Manchester, and a scarf, and a hot dog. Nobody saw him take it. For a moment, he was tempted. Then he looked at the photo again. Edith Brown was smiling. She looked a bit like his own grandma.
The address on the library card was 7 Rose Street — only ten minutes away. Tom walked there in the rain. An old woman opened the door. Her eyes were red. “Excuse me,” said Tom, “are you Edith Brown? I think this is yours.”
Mrs Brown held the wallet and started to cry — happy tears this time. “My pension is in there,” she said. “It’s all my money for the week. I looked everywhere.” She made Tom a cup of hot chocolate and wanted to give him twenty pounds. Tom said no. “I didn’t do it for money,” he said.
Two weeks later, a letter arrived for Tom. Inside there was a ticket to the Manchester match and a note: “My grandson works at the stadium. He says thank you to the most honest boy in Sunbeam Bay. Love, Edith.”