I’m writing this standing on a platform at Peterborough station.
I’m f**king cold and typing is making my hands numb. But nonetheless, I feel a warm glow from the experiences I have had in the last two hours.
No-one can describe the feeling when you realise you have left your purse on the train you’ve just got off. Desperately clawing at the doors to try and get them to open. Willing the light that just switched off to somehow spring back into life to light your way back to sanity…
That dread when the train pulls out with it on. You watching it leave, and there really is nothing to do, but imagine the horror of the next few hours as you cancel cards, speak to increasingly amazingly patient husbands, and remind kids not to be quite so awful as their mothers at remembering stuff. If you are writing a blog for work, don’t forget to put yur purse away, and then only realise you are pulling into your station at the last minute. Recipe. For. Disaster.
But – you never know, it might be OK. If you can just find that one person that has a heart and is willing to go that little bit further to save an exasperated mum. One that does her best to keep all her s**t together, and oddly often fails spectacularly.
Maybe great customer service doesn’t just exist in my head. Maybe I won’t be put on hold for hours listening to tinny music. Maybe I might get to speak to a person that understands.
Amy I salute you.
Today you made me realise there is hope for us all.
You took the time to phone the guard on the train to see if she could check for the purse. Sadly, she couldn’t because the train was so busy. She just couldn’t get down the aisles. But she wanted to help. My heart was in my mouth. I thought that this meant I was without it. I would have to go home empty handed, empty hand-bagged…
However, you didn’t stop there though. You phoned Kings Cross where the train terminated to get them to check when the train came in.
You then gave me a voucher for free cake and coffee as I had no money – told me to wait in a hotel across from the station and you would come and see me. You insisted that you would come to me, so I had chocolate cake to calm my nerves.
True to your word, you made the effort to come to see me. No chocolate cake for you. You definitely deserved one more than I did. You told me it was found.
You sent the purse on its own adventure on the next train from London to Peterborough so I could be re-united. Your colleague Luke helped me again by collected it off the train, and yet another employee handed it back to me.
I may be arriving home two hours later, but I have my purse.
Humanity is saved. My faith has been restored. Such a pity my faith in my memory was shattered alongside it.
Ah well. Nevermind. Amy was kind enough to give me free chocolate cake. So who actually cares?
Helen
Helen is a mum to two, social media consultant, and website editor; and this site is (we think) the only Social Enterprise parenting magazine!Since giving up being a business analyst when juggling travel, work and kids proved too complicated, she founded KiddyCharts so she could be with her kids, and use those grey cells at the same time.KiddyCharts has reach of over 1.1million across social and the site. The blog works with big family brands (including travel) to help promote their services, as well as offering free resources to parents of kids under 10.It gives 51%+ profits to Reverence for Life, who fund a number of important initiatives in Africa, including bringing running water and basic equipment to a school in Tanzania.Helen has worked as a digital marketing consultant (IDM qualified) with various organisations, including Channel Mum, Truprint, Talk to Mums, and Micro Scooters. She loves to be creative in the brand campaigns she works on.Get in touch TODAY!