The Story of the Missing Pizza

The other night I ordered a pizza for dinner. When a text came through saying the pizza had been delivered, I checked, and there was nothing on our porch.

For whatever reason, our house doesn’t show up properly on every GPS, so I wasn’t shocked. I called the pizza place and explained what had happened. The kind lady on the other end didn’t question me. She apologized for the issue and put our order through again.

The second time, the pizza arrived just fine, and the man delivering it placed it in my hands with a smile.

We enjoyed the pizza, and I tucked the leftovers away for a hungry teen’s breakfast the next day.

A full day passed. I completely forgot about the pizza. And then the day after that, my phone rang. It was a woman who had just come home and found a two-day-old pizza on her porch. She wanted to let me know that she had received my pizza, but she had thrown it away since it was two days old.

Our houses have the same numbers, and we don’t live far apart—though we have never met.

I was impressed with her conscientious nature and her kindness in letting us know she had received our pizza. I’m not sure that if I found a two-day-old pizza on my porch that I would have gone to the trouble to call the pizza place and the person who ordered it. But she did, and I appreciated it.

There are so many different people in the world—and I love all the characters in our pizza saga.

There’s the first pizza delivery person, the one who couldn’t figure out where to take the pizza, and finally left it on a porch that seemed close to correct. Maybe that person was hurrying home to a sick child or was running low on gas or was just tired of trying to find a house that didn’t seem to pop up on GPS. We’ll never know.

There’s the wonderful lady at the pizza place, Monica, who placed the order for us again and gave very specific directions for its delivery. She had to have had a very full and long day, and I was calling her at the busiest time of the day, but she made sure we received the pizza we ordered.

There’s the second delivery person, who brought the pizza so quickly, handing it off to me without any apparent issue finding our house. He seemed as happy to see me as I was to see him.

Then there’s the homeowner who arrived home to an old pizza box and felt inclined to help us solve the mystery of the missing pizza. I feel certain she’s the kind of person who makes a detailed grocery list and puts her Christmas lights away with meticulous care. She probably doesn’t have a pile of Christmas gifts still sitting in her dining room, waiting to be shipped to New England. I admire her even though I don’t know her name.

Everyone is different, and everyone brings a different level of care to the moments that present themselves during the day.

“One earns paradise with one’s daily task,” St. Gianna said.

What tasks will the day bring for us, and what will we bring to it? If we’re lucky, maybe there will be pizza.

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