I sent my brother a package for his birthday, and using the tracking number and email alerts, I could see where it had been from the moment it left my hands. The day, the time, the location. From Portland, Maine, to Jersey City, New Jersey, to Memphis, Tennessee, and finally to Nashville. Very exciting.
But then the tracking status update at 11:27 a.m. from Nashville listed the package, “Undeliverable as Addressed.” Undeliverable. But it's so close, the package was at the post office, just blocks from my brother.
Undeliverable? Hold on.
Hold the package. He can come get it. Oh, don't send it all the way back to Maine.
I found a phone number for the local post office, and after three calls that ended with a busy signal, I tried again. It rang through, and David answered.
I explained the situation and David asked for the tracking number and offered to look for the package. He found it! (Whew.) Offered to try delivering it again. (Not sure that's a good idea.) Or, he said, my brother could stop by for pick-up. (Yes! Let’s do that.)
David delivered the “undeliverable.” He was kind and helpful when he might have dismissed me, might have said there were too many packages to go pawing through, might have said it may or may not be in the building. But he didn’t, he looked for the package, and he found it.
Thank you David.