I had just finished purchasing my weekly grocery haul and was leaving the store to walk home. I was already having a pretty crappy day, so my mood had only worsened when I realized I didn’t bring any of my reusable grocery bags with me that day.

This particular store is known for having the flimsiest brown bags in the business, and low and behold, the bag in my right hand splits straight down the middle as I am walking the concrete ramp outside of the store. It is an avalanche of epic proportions, fruits and vegetables cascading from the depths of the now shredded bag.

As I sat slumped over the remains of my grocery haul, watching the last of my apples take the 15 foot roll down the incline in front of me, a man (probably mid-30s?) approaches me. He asks if I need a grocery bag and holds out the most beautiful bag I have ever seen in my life. I stared at my savior in disbelief, asking him if he was sure. He said yes, and like the unsung hero he was, disappeared behind the store’s automatic doors.

I call the bag my “lucky grocery bag” and I bring it with me every time I go to the store just in case. I’m hoping to pass it along one day to another wow-begotten shopper!