{image: kinwoman}
Every Christmas I have a tradition of watching Love Actually while I wrap presents. I’m a cheese ball and have a thing for Colin Firth. And Hugh Grant dancing by himself at 10 Downing Street. And Emma Thompson is a class act who makes motherhood look incredibly brilliant. But this year I received an early reminder of how much love really is out there when we choose to receive it. It was snowing, I was already late for a meeting, and had a flat tire. Quite a banner day all around. When I stopped to fill it up with air, I left my wallet on the hood of the car then drove off without it. Later, when I realized it was missing, I raced back to the gas station to see if it had turned up. No dice. I’m not sure which was more irritating: that someone in my neighborhood would steal a wallet, the inconvenience of having to replace all of my cards, or losing my favorite Coach wallet. Before I could explore that self-pity spiral, I received emails to two different accounts AND a Facebook message from a woman whose husband and son had found it in the middle of the street and brought it home for her to sort out. Miss Christina wasted no time googling me until she found my contact info (my drivers license was in a coat pocked from the night before). I could’ve cried. I definitely squealed and hugged the heck out of her when I went to collect my things?and returned the favor with a bagful of beauty treats. I believe that people are innately good. Bu...