My day as Nancy Drew proved not everyone does the right thing

If we all did our best to do our best, not even Australia Post errors and lost packages could dampen your rainy day, writes Lisa Mayoh.

Anyone who is still waiting on a Christmas delivery or anxiously expecting the goodies you snapped up in Boxing Day sales, a story of caution – and hope – awaits.

I was one of those people constantly checking my AusPost app in the lead-up to Santa’s big night to track down a haul of pressies for my eldest and oh-so-particular daughter – a package that wasn’t safe and sound, despite my app telling me it had been ‘delivered’.

So I called Australia Post to find out where the parcel was, only to be told that yes, it had been delivered a whole seven days earlier. In fact, I’d even signed for it.

Except I hadn’t. And it wasn’t.

The woman on the phone was understanding and apologetic and offered to send me a photo of said parcel on said doorstep – which she did – only it wasn’t my front door at all.

Australia Post said the parcel had been delivered and I had signed for it – only I hadn’t. Picture: Australia Post

What do I do? I asked the kind woman.

Well, she would start an investigation and I may or may not hear from her at the end – unfortunately, there was not a lot she could do to help. T’was the old story of a needle in a haystack, the night before Christmas.

I started walking up and down my street on the hunt for the doorstep from the photo.

So I started walking up and down my street on the hunt for the doorstep with the antique coloured tiles and nondescript navy door from the photo. Of course I had no luck, as panic ensued.

Calm down, I told myself, and think. What on earth could I do now?

So I posted the picture of the front door to our local community Facebook page in the hope someone recognised the porch in question – but it was yet to be approved by admin and I was getting nowhere as fast as Christmas was arriving.

I had another look at my Aus Post app to see if anything had changed – when I noticed the postcode that the parcel was delivered to was not mine but a suburb about 20 minutes away.

I googled my street name, with the nearby suburb, and found there was a street similar to mine. I had nothing to lose but 20 minutes in a car – and my sanity.

So I googled my street name, with the nearby suburb, and found there was a street similar to mine – just one letter difference.

Could that be a clue? I had nothing to lose but 20 minutes in the car – and my sanity, of course – so I picked up my younger kids and explained we were going on a little adventure to track down Mummy’s lost mail.

Even they looked at me like I was mad. We were halfway there and I almost turned around – it was pouring with rain, I was tired and really should have raced home to get my life sorted – but no.

“Keep going mum,” my 11-year-old implored. “We can do it.”

So the mission continued and, as I turned down the street, I said my prayers and looked out for our house number – when I saw it, clear as day.

The antique coloured tiles. Navy, yellow, orange.

The navy door.

The cream walls.

The old school doorbell.

I’d found it.

I. Could. Not. Believe. It.

The mission continued in the rain. Picture: Kevin Farmer

I was also in luck, as there was a car in the driveway, so as I hopped out in the rain with a smile, I told the kids to wait right there and I’d be back in a flash.

I ran to the door and pressed the doorbell, when a man in his late 40s appeared.

“Hello, my-name-is-Lisa-and-I-think-you-have-my-package,” I said in one far-too-excited breath, explaining what had happened and showing the photo of his front door, with my package as clear as day.

Confused, he said it was his mum’s house, and she was asleep so … sorry, but he wasn’t sure.

“Oh,” I replied, registering that he clearly didn’t understand how excited I was that my Nancy Drew moment had finally come, after years of reading whodunit books as a kid.

So, after a bit of not so subtle encouragement, he agreed to go and wake his mum from her afternoon slumber – and when she came to the door she was just as unimpressed to see me there.

“Yes, I have your package,” she told me as she walked back inside to grab it.

Back she walks, ever so slowly, holding my box of goodies.

The box of goodies had been ripped open.

A box that had been ripped open, its contents clearly rummaged through.

“Oh thank you so much,” I said, overcome with excitement that out of the whole of Sydney, I HAD FOUND MY LOST PACKAGE, and gratefully took it from her clenched arms.

I turned to walk back to my kids and claim my victory when I stopped and asked: “Excuse me – but were you going to try and find me, to return my package, that has my children’s Christmas presents in it?”

“Well, I thought it was my daughter’s,” she said, not even sheepishly.

Only the box had my full name, and my correct address on it. And she lived 3 minutes from the Post Office she could have returned it to A WEEK AGO when she SIGNED FOR something that clearly WAS NOT HERS.

Can you tell I was upset?

I was gobsmacked that the woman wasn’t going to do the right thing and return someone else’s goods but I still left ecstatic that the end of my story was going to be a happy one.

As I got back in the car to my two wide-eyed little kiddies, I told them we had learnt a few things on our delivery tracking adventure – the first being that anything is possible kids.

To find something that truly could have been anywhere? Amazing. Moral of the story – no matter the challenge, don’t give up, even when a happy ending feels impossible.

The second thing we learned was that, sadly, people aren’t always going to do the right thing. There’s not a lot we can do about that – all we can do is be the person who rights the wrongs. The good person, who does good things.

So, if you accidentally sign for something that’s not yours, please return it. If you find something that belongs to someone else, try and find its owner. If we all did our best to do our best, not even Australia Post errors and lost packages could dampen your rainy day.

Just ask Nancy Drew … and her kids, who will now forever believe in Christmas miracles.