The brisk, short walk to the hospital was fun as the big snowflakes continued to gently fall on the unshoveled sidewalks. The sight of the big “cotton balls” was still thrilling, never mind that he had seen his first snowfall a week ago. The novelty was still strong to the little boy in him who could only fantasize about the real beauty and magic of snow while growing up in his native tropical country.

He was careful in making new footprints. He didn’t want to continue pulling out his galoshes overshoes that would get stuck deep in the packed snow. Somehow, no amount of crumpled newspaper would keep his own shoes firmly tucked in the used, hand-me-down, giant-sized galoshes overshoes that Sister Teresa gave him.

After shaking the snow off him, he entered the hospital to start another exciting week as a Medical Technology intern in the laboratory.

“Raul, did you lose something?” Sister Teresa asked.

“No, I don’t think so, Sister Teresa.” he answered, managing to look up while in the middle of a laboratory procedure.

“Well, an 8-year old boy found something of yours when he was playing in the snow.”

“Really? He immediately stopped what he was doing. “What is it, Sister?” he asked, standing in full attention.

“Your passport!”

Blood drained from his face as he turned to squarely face Sister Teresa.

“Are you sure, Sister?” he slowly asked with narrowed eyes.

“Yes! Luckily, there was a note about our hospital in it. His parents called to alert us.”

“Oh, thank you!” His chest sank as he released the full gulp of air that he was holding.

Sister Teresa gently rubbed the 21-year old’s shoulder as she handed him the passport.

He didn’t know how he completed the laboratory test, much less how the day ended.

That night, he wrote a short Thank You note to the parents. He checked it many times to see whether it captured his deep sense of gratitude, especially to the 8-year old boy. To lose important papers, particularly a passport, was risky. Somebody found it, he unknowing that he lost it. His relationship with the American people so far was nice and the good deed made it warmer. He ended the note with a Thank You in his native language. After rechecking it for correct grammar and syntax, he mailed it.

“Raul, how are you today?” asked Sister Teresa the following Monday.

“I am fine, Sister Teresa. Thank you.”

“Have you read last weekend’s newspaper?” she said with a glint in her eyes.

“No, Sister.” His ears perked up a little, mildly suspecting another gotcha moment.

“Well, you are in it.” she said while gently poking him on his shoulder.

“Really?” he answered with a doubting tone.

“Yes! Your Thank You note got published!” she said resoundingly for others in the laboratory to hear.

“Oh, gee!” he exclaimed, trying to contain himself. “Only a month in the new country and now a celebrity!”

“Yes, you lucky boy! I am so proud of you!” Sister Teresa patted his back as the other laboratory techs gathered to congratulate him.

On the way to his one-room apartment, he bought a copy of the newspaper. He slowly checked each page, the newspaper ink collecting on his fingers.

He went rigid when under the “Letters to the Editor” he saw something familiar. His eyes widened as he proceeded to examine it.

There it was! His Thank You note in black and white, exactly as he had written it! His chest was close to exploding!

He carefully cut off the entire page. He neatly folded it. He slowly inserted it into an envelope.

He walked to the post office across the street to mail it back home to his native country.

“Will they be just as happy and proud?” Raul wistfully thought, as he stepped out of the post office, his galoshes overshoes making new footprints on the now crunchy snow.