I have always stated that I tend to obtain anything I want. I could never tell why. I am an only child so all my relatives looked at me as the classic spoiled brat who got everything at hand at the first cry.

At the age of 20, after a late high school diploma, I started to look for jobs in Europe, not just in Italy (my native country). I was particularly gifted with the English language and I wanted to keep speaking it, so I was attempting to move to an English speaking country. Out of the hundreds of CVs sent out, a company contacted me from Ireland, they interviewed me by phone, financed my relocation, and got me into their staff, where I still work today.

I have to say, a lot of extraordinary things happened in my life… small things, almost trivial, but that somehow would always remind me someone or something is watching over me. I got my share of bad moments too, so I knew that eye in the sky must have gone astray a couple of times. I was never fully aware of it though. Not until I read and watched The Secret.

I have had the book for a couple of years… but never chose to read it until about last week, when I was especially inspired to. And today, after I shipped the DVD to my father, who is going through a difficult time of his life, today I realized how The Secret works, and how I always applied it, even without being aware of it.

A few months ago, I missed my bus to work (nothing extraordinary there, it happens at least twice a month); so to arrive on time, I hailed a taxi nearby the bus stop. There are nearly more taxi drivers than pedestrians in my town, and generally I always make sure I identify the company employing the drivers I hire. This taxi though, had no Company name. It was an independent driver (half of the taxis on the street are independent drivers anyway), I didn’t notice the driver’s name either, but I wasn’t too concerned about that… it was just before 7am on a winter morning, and I was still half asleep. Most of my actions and thoughts were on autopilot.

When the taxi stopped at my work place I opened my huge handbag and looked for my purse to pay my fare. Harder than one might think… women’s handbags are usually a mess by default, but mine is especially messy. When I finally found the purse, I paid, got my change, threw the purse back in my bag and rushed to work.

It was especially busy that day and for lunch all I could afford was the time to get a sandwich. So I went to the machine with the change I had received in the morning.

When my shift was over I was getting ready to leave and just then did I realize that something was missing from my bag. My purse! I had about 70 euro in it, a usb drive, lots of other silly things, and 2 pictures of my uncle and cousin who died a few years ago. I was very close to them. I was in shock. Total panic. For one, because I had LOST something, for real. I had always managed to find jewelry or other lost items that got buried somewhere in my apartment. But something like this… Never. Then I was so sorry. Not for the money. Not for what was in it… I couldn’t even remember I had a USB drive in it. All I could think of was that I lost my relatives’ pictures. I felt as if all of a sudden I had left them behind, and that made me feel extremely guilty for not paying attention to my things.

I went back to town, rushed to the police to check if anything had been returned, but nothing. I tried to call a few taxi companies in case they could point me in the right direction. But none could help. I went back to all the taxi bays in the city center hoping to find that same driver parked there and waiting for another ride, or another driver who would have spent the morning with him. Nothing. I eventually got back home resigned to having lost that purse… Hoping that I would be so lucky to have just dreamed about this. Sorry, because I knew it wasn’t a dream.

Then I realized. What if I had lost something more important than just a bunch of papers and stuff (that regardless of their value – practical and sentimental value – were replaceable anyway)? What if I had lost my home keys (attached to which there was my sole copy of my bedroom door) or my credit card folder? I realized all this wasn’t as bad and I took it on board as a wake up call: Something far worse or more annoying could have happened, and I felt grateful. It was JUST the purse that I had lost.

I was still daydreaming about getting it back somehow, maybe the day after I would go back at the same bay I taken that taxi and find the same driver… or maybe I would find it in work, the driver having brought it back just after I had left. Or maybe it would get returned to the police… Anyone, police first, had told me to check again the day after, but not to keep my hopes up. When a purse is lost it doesn’t come back, or at least the chances of it coming back still full are slim to none. But I was still hoping. So much so that I could see myself getting it back, I could see and feel how happy I was I that I had gotten it back.

4 hours later, out of the blue, my doorbell rang. I couldn’t believe it. I rushed to it (I never answer if I am not expecting someone, but I was this time… I was 100% sure my purse was back). I answered and there he was. That same taxi driver who got me to work in the morning. With my purse in his hands. He kept apologizing for bringing it to me so late as he was out of town all day and for messing it up in the attempt to find some clue on my address or name. And I kept thanking him for doing it! He had gone back to my workplace trying to wait for me there but I had already gone and he still didn’t know what my name was. He found a bank statement in a pocket. A very old statement that still had my address details readable. I kept it in there in case I needed my IBAN code, too long to be remembered by heart.

Now, after months this had happened, I read The Secret. I believed in it profoundly since Page 1, but I still couldn’t tell HOW to embrace it. Then while I was thinking of how to help my parents see and believe, it occurred to me: How on earth would I have gotten my purse back otherwise?