January 25th, 2012 | Lauren Simms
Well, school is underway; homework has been assigned, tests have been planned, and some projects have already been turned in. Christmas break seems like ages ago, and yet spring break seems too far to reach.
The day after Christmas, my family and I went to Florida. My grandpa wasn’t doing well, and Hospice had been called.
After a week with family, it was time to head home. The following morning we left Florida and made it to Atlanta, Georgia, around 4:30 that afternoon. It’s a tradition that we stop at our favorite Mexican restaurant, Pappasitas.
We parked right by the door and walked in with the sun still shining. We were done by 5:45; and the closer I got to our car, the more I knew something wasn’t right. I opened my door to find three of my bags missing.
One bag included my MacBook Pro and all of my chargers (phone, iPod, Nook, camera, computer, etc). Another bag included all of my personal things. The last bag was my purse; in it was my camera, iTouch, phone, and most importantly, my wallet.
As I began to think of all the things I no longer had (my writings, 6,000 pictures, school papers, my identity, and all of the things I had worked so hard for), I no longer could breathe. I leaned over, and experienced my first panic attack.
We ended up being with the police for more than three hours in Pappasitas’ lobby, calling Apple, Bank of America and Verizon. A tool resembling a key was used to break in the vehicle; the tool goes into the lock of the driver’s side and denigrates the lock without sounding off the alarm. My bank account was emptied in 6 minutes.
The value of the items stolen totaled $5,088.71.
We drove through and got to Springfield at 7:30 the next morning; I was awake on the ride home, crying and praying softly.
When my mom and I were driving in Springfield the next day, we saw the words “SORRY LAUREN” written on a bridge overpass. To this day, I don’t know who put the message on the bridge. Whether or not they were originally meant for me, it was a beautiful message and just what I needed.
Three weeks later I received an insurance check that paid back every single item that was stolen, plus more. I heard this quote not long after, “I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but I know who holds my tomorrow.”
Writing this blog, telling this story still brings me to tears. Not because of what was taken, but because of who came to my rescue.
Because no matter what anyone takes from me, they will never be able to take away the one thing that means the most.
No one will ever be able to take away my God.