A local equivalent of Murphy’s law in Communist Romania stated that, if you had been waiting long enough for a bus to come and decided to light a cigarette, the bus would come before you even had the time to enjoy your cancer stick.

I was confronted with yet another proof of this perverse natural law last week, as I was trying to start my new life as a student at Stanford without any luggage or other form of wardrobe. It had already been 6 days since KLM was tracking my two suitcases and their customer support website was showing the same disconcerting message “Tracking continues. Please check back later.”

As you may remember from my initial post on this blog, I had lost all hope of ever recovering them and was in the middle of a Stoic exercise in detachment and resigned acceptance. Truth be told, I was getting tired of going every day to the American Apparel store for yet another T-shirt (I was expecting the “Man, you’ve got an obsession!” line, but the guys there took pity on me instead and gave me a discount).

With Week 0 and the opening dinner (where shorts were not an option, our Director of Student Life advised) steadily approaching, I decided not to take any chances and went to Macy’s to get myself an emergency wardrobe for the beginning of the first quarter.

As it turns out, Macy’s was having a summer sale so I was able to get some very nice clothes for a more than reasonable price. Of course, when I added the amounts on each receipt, the total no longer seemed so reasonable. But what could I do? I told myself I had chosen the best option to mitigate the effects of this unexpected “clothing crisis”.

Late at night, just before going to sleep, I decided to run one more search on the KLM website. I did it hopelessly, as I have never truly believed in miracles. You probably guessed by now. The message on the website proved once again Murphy’s implacable law. The status read “Delivery initiated” for both suitcases.

Now you may imagine I started screaming hysterically and throwing things around, but you have to remember I had absolutely lost all hope of ever recovering my clothes. Upon seeing the message, I was overwhelmed with unspeakable joy. It felt as if I had received an unexpected super-present from somebody who really knew my taste in clothing and had gotten me all the items on my wishlist.

As I was closing my MacBook, my eyes filled with tears, I remembered what “Tanti Zizi”, my old Jewish landlord, once told me after recovering my lost keys (I had been looking for them the entire morning and there was no backup available):

You see, my dear, this is the happiness of the pauper: he rejoices in finding what he has lost…