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Metropolitan Diary

And That’s What They Call Karma

Dear Diary:

Two summers ago, a friend and I were staying in a Midtown Manhattan hotel. In search of breakfast, we wandered into a coffee shop and were seated next to three well-dressed young women.

After the women left, our waitress was dismayed to see that they had not left a tip. I was in the middle of leaving our tip and added $5 to make up for our neighbors’ omission. The waitress was quite thankful.

That evening, my friend and I were walking to a restaurant near the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I realized when we reached our destination that my gold bracelet was missing. We left immediately. It was quite dark by then, so we stopped to buy a flashlight.

As we were retracing our steps, a young woman jogging by asked what we were looking for. She ran ahead, stopped and picked something up. She turned around, jogged back and handed me my bracelet.

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A version of this article appears in print on  , Section A, Page 16 of the New York edition. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper | Subscribe

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