I Thought I Lost Everything — Until a Young Man Named Anthony Reminded Me That Integrity Still Exists.
Anthony and the Wristlet
On an ordinary Wednesday evening, after a long day at work, I stopped by the Piggly Wiggly on Highway 78. I only needed a few things — a couple of groceries, maybe some snacks — nothing special. As I pushed my cart back to the buggy port outside the store, I remember thinking how quiet and peaceful everything felt. The sky was turning that deep shade of twilight that promises a cooler night. I got in my car, drove home, and thought the day was done.
But around 9:30 p.m., a wave of panic hit me like a freight train.
My phone was missing.
I reached for my wristlet — the small clutch I always carry — but it wasn’t in my purse. Not in the car. Not on the kitchen counter. Nowhere.
That wristlet held more than just cards and receipts. It had $200 in cash that my daughter Shelisa had given me earlier that day to pay for our car tags. On top of that, I had more than $70 of my own money in there — including $10 in quarters I’d been saving for laundry day.
My heart dropped. I retraced my steps in my mind. I hadn’t been anywhere except Piggly Wiggly.
So I picked up the phone and called the store, my voice trembling as I asked if anything had been turned in. The woman on the other end of the line paused — and then said, “Yes, ma’am. We have a wristlet. And a phone.”
For a moment, I just sat there in silence. Stunned. Then came the next question: was anything missing?
No.
Not a dollar.
Not a quarter.
Not the phone.
Everything was still there.
When I asked who had turned it in, the store manager simply said, “That would be Anthony.”
Anthony.
A teenager.
The young man in the photo I’m sharing today.
Anthony works at the Piggly Wiggly on 78. He’s a student at Central Park Christian. I don’t know what most people expect from a high school kid working a part-time job — but I know that what Anthony did speaks volumes, not just about him, but about the home and heart he came from.
The next day, I went back to Piggly Wiggly. I asked to speak to Anthony personally. When I handed him a $100 bill as a thank-you, he looked surprised, almost shy. And when I called his mom, Joyce, to tell her what an amazing job she was doing raising such an honest, kind-hearted young man — she cried.
Tears of joy.
Because let’s face it: in a world where we constantly hear stories about the worst in people, about what’s going wrong with the younger generation, about what’s broken in society — we rarely stop to celebrate the ones who do right.
The ones who could have walked away — but didn’t.
The ones who could have looked the other way — but chose honesty.
The ones like Anthony.
So this story isn’t about lost money. It’s not even about a lost phone.
It’s about something we’re all still hoping for: integrity, kindness, and the power of doing the right thing — even when no one is watching.
Thank you, Anthony.
The world needs more people like you.