The Extra $20

I had to make a payment on the credit card today.  After a very easy job of escorting a patient from the doctor's office to a taxi, I found a Capital One Bank and went in to pay the account.  I've done this hundreds of times.  I go to the ATM, take out the predetermined amount of money, the walk it to the teller and give them the card number.  They apply the payment and give me a receipt.  You've done it.  I've done it.  In and out in five minutes.  Unless it's a Friday afternoon, then you might as well write the rest of the day off.

I entered the location and found the ATM.  I pushed my card in the slot and punched in my PIN number.  The first notice said there were no receipts available, and did I want to continue.  I did.  I requested cash and then typed in $400.00.  The machine whirred and growled and then the door opened.  I saw four crisp, one-hundred-dollar bills and one $20.  The twenty was a little bit crumpled and the corner was torn.  Not detached, but close.  Due to my quick thinking and the reflexes of a cat, I was able to grab $420 from the ATM.

I went over to the teller, but this time was not like the others.  I had twenty dollars more than I thought I would, so I slipped it into my wallet where it fit nicely next to the receipts for yesterday's purchases.  After several minutes, it was my turn.  I went to the window and explained that I wanted to make a payment on this card, of this amount, slipping both the cash and the card under the bullet-proof window.  The teller took the cash and returned the card to me with a receipt.

As far as I was concerned, I was home free.  But the walk to the door was really long.  I knew I would be in the clear, and I was 98% sure that I would not be tracked down.  Now or ever.  I had a thought, though.  I like to talk.  A lot.  I thought about how this story would probably come up soon.  This weekend?  Next month?  I was also sure that if I told a story about getting an extra twenty from an ATM and that I kept it and I deserved to, I would not be condemned by anyone.  Awesome, I was heading toward the door.  Another thought crowded my thoughts.  What if I could tell the story and end it with, "and then I gave the twenty to the teller."  I would be able to buy twenty dollars less in groceries than if I didn't return the money, but if I returned the money, I could make myself look really good without any spin at all.  Please understand, these thoughts plowed through my head in just seconds.

To the left of the doors was a banker with a desk, and he had no customers.  I walked past him slowly.  He asked if I needed help.  I said, "I'm struggling here.  I got some money from the ATM, and I got this ratty twenty in addition to the cash I requested.  I guess I should give it to you?"  The banker took the money and said, "Oh, the man before you was $20 short and you got $20 more?"  I told him that I didn't know what happened before I went to the window, but that I had an extra twenty.  He rephrased his question to imply that someone had come to him earlier with a complaint of not receiving all the money he wanted.  He thanked me for being honest, and I grunted.

The end of this story is and then I gave the twenty to the banker.  I did the right thing.  I don't have to justify stealing from a bank that would never know it was missing because I didn't take the money.  I should feel so good for doing what I did.  The truth is, I don't.  It doesn't feel good to do the right thing all the time.  I will trust, and I daresay believe that the great cosmic ledger has tipped in my favor.

There are some good people out there.  There are people of any religion or no religion who would have returned that money and there would have been no hesitation or question in their mind.  Not so for me.  On the human, fleshly side, an extra twenty would have been helpful.  On the other side, spiritual, eternal, there is a Bible verse that comes to mind that was drilled into my memory when I was young.   I Corinthians 10:31  Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.  My feelings are inconsequential.  Are my actions glorifying God?  I strive for that and fail, often.  As a side note, the end of the chapter says "even as I please all men in all things, not seeking mine own profit, but the profit of many, that they may be saved." (I Cor 10:33)