In case you can't tell, it's a set of wheels for a toy motorcycle. (Or perhaps a model). Regardless, it is not my package. Yes, you can see my name on it with my address here written in my mother's handwriting, along with the customs label she put on it. However, those labels were somehow removed from my package, and placed on this poor sap from Italy's package. I was quite disappointed. And yes, there were tears. My mom placed a report with the USPS of a possible stolen package. After all, the two labels you see here were on different sides of the box. The likelihood of the labels coming loose and magically finding themselves on this package are slim to none.
So I prayed. And prayed. And hoped against hope that my package might actually make it to me or back to my parents. In the meantime, my mom and I came up with a backup plan for the project materials. Not quite as originally intended, but would still be special. She sent the package two days ago. Yesterday, I received this in the mail:
It's the package! The original package sent 4 weeks ago! The one we thought was stolen! Everything it originally contained was still inside. As you can see, the address label is in my mother's handwriting. She put an extra address label inside the box when she sent it. I'm not sure why she did, and I remember thinking it a bit different when she told me about it just after she sent the package. So all I can figure out is that the USPS opened the box looking for some sort of identifying information, found the address label, and sent it to me. I will never know for sure. But I am sure thankful to have the box and it's contents. I'm thankful to see how God provides in such trivial matters such as this. If He can care enough to help a small box get to me in Switzerland, how much more for bigger things in life? For people, for their health, for you?
