Sure!
It was raining the day Maya found the umbrella.
It lay abandoned on a park bench—bright yellow with a duck-shaped handle, cheerful despite the gray drizzle. She looked around, but no one seemed to be missing it. With a shrug, she took it, whispering, "Thanks, stranger," as she opened it above her head.
From that day on, small good things kept happening.
She caught every green light. Her coffee was always made just right. A stranger paid for her bus fare when she forgot her wallet. She started to wonder if the umbrella was lucky.
Weeks passed, and she started calling it Sunny. She carried it everywhere, rain or shine.
One day, while walking through the same park, she spotted a little boy crying. His mother knelt beside him, trying to comfort him.
"What's wrong?" Maya asked gently.
"He lost his ducky umbrella," the woman said. "It was his favorite."
Maya looked down at Sunny, then back at the boy's tearful face.
She knelt and held it out. "I think this belongs to you."
