The Sale

Greetings everyone!

We’re at the beach this week, so I will share a story published in the local newspaper in my town this week. Enjoy!

“No, I’m sorry, you’re short $800.”
I sighed, looked around the busy bank, not quite knowing what to do. I internally scolded myself. Why, oh why didn’t I recount the money? Read more…..

Everybody Has a Story: Car buyers shorted her $800, but honesty made for happy ending

By Shirley Quiring Mozena, Columbia River neighborhood

Published: June 21, 2017, 6:00 AM

It was late spring. Instead of an anticipated spring wedding, I faced a broken engagement. My heart was hurting, and I was smarting with pride and rejection. Why wouldn’t he want me? I’m just too good for him!

The rejection was hard to take, even though later I knew it was for the best. It was grief, not like the deaths of either of my two husbands, but loss of hoped-for dreams.

I’d already begun a grief recovery of sorts: cleaning, painting, rearranging the home I had anticipated moving from. Instead of getting married and moving to a new home, I would be staying in my current home, so I made changes for just me living there.

I owned two cars at the time, and during our engagement, I thought keeping the van was a good thing. It was handy to move things to the home we’d purchased and to transport our four grandkids. After the breakup, though, I didn’t need it anymore.

I checked out Blue Book prices for the gold Odyssey van that always reminded me of Blair, my late husband — it was originally his car. I listed it on Craigslist.

I was surprised that within an hour, I had several calls and interested buyers. I decided to sell it to the first person who made a reasonable offer. He was a Hispanic man. He, his family of four and a friend were willing to drive up from a town 50 miles south. I gave driving instructions to my home and arranged for my neighbor to go with them when they test-drove my van.

Of course the buyer liked it. It was clean and well cared-for and at a good price. The family came in with their friend, and in broken English we transacted the deal. I signed the title over to them and we filled out a sales receipt, each signing our name and phone number.

The two men took out the cash, several thousand dollars, and began counting in Spanish. I could hear them muttering, “Uno cien, dos cien, tres cien.” They counted, recounted and handed me the pile of cash. I swiftly counted it out. I should have counted it one more time, just as I’d learned as a bank teller years ago, but I didn’t want to offend them by not accepting their counting. I accepted the cash, gave a nod and said, “Thank you. Hope you enjoy the van.” They smiled back and the family of four excitedly climbed into their new van.

When the bank opened the next morning, I went to deposit my cash. I didn’t recount the money because I was confident it was correct. The teller swiftly counted the cash and stacked the hundred dollar bills in piles of $1,000. She recounted it again and said, “Sweetie, did you know you’re $800 short on the deposit?”

“No way!” I declared, so sure I was of my deposit amount.

“I’ll count it again, but I’m quite sure.” A little more slowly this time, she counted the bills. “No, I’m sorry, you’re short $800.”

I sighed, looked around the busy bank, not quite knowing what to do. I internally scolded myself. Why, oh why, didn’t I recount the money?

I finished the transaction. I mentally kicked myself for this error. I hadn’t wanted them to think I didn’t trust them because they were Hispanic, so I wasn’t as careful counting their money. That was wrong on my part. I drove home immediately and called the phone number on the sales receipt. It took several tries on the phone, and finally a woman answered. She said, “My husband did mention there was extra cash. …”

“Could we meet somewhere so I may collect the rest of the money?” I asked breathlessly, “I can show you my bank receipt with the amount you gave me.”

She gave me her address, and I started my drive south. I easily found the modest apartment complex where they lived and met her outside in the parking lot. We didn’t say much because she seemed to be shy about speaking in English. I counted the $800, and said, “God will bless you for being honest.” She smiled and waved goodbye.

I drove home, delighting in humanity. The couple could have refused to meet me and return the cash. They could have said I was wrong and it would be my word against theirs, but they didn’t. She readily gave me the cash. I could tell they were a hard-working couple who had saved thousands of dollars in cash to buy a family van.

Their honesty led me to experience providence in a new way.