I played two weeks of bridge in a tournament hosted in Poznań, Poland held by European Bridge League (EBL). On my flight back I am trying to sort out the real winnings.
My team won a silver medal—no small feat in an International Tournament—and my first medal. Even more significant was that I played my best bridge.
My coach and partner, Morten, said very little, as we played over 300 hands in two weeks.
At one point, after I slipped on three hands in a row, Morten offered a gentle nudge:
“Bridge is all about focus. There’s not much more to it—but that’s what makes it so difficult.”
“The hand is over. Nothing you can do about it.”
I needed that nudge to start swinging the bat again.
Little things and big things matter—in bridge and in life.
I’m also happy I didn’t disappoint my star-studded team, who got me to the finish line.
Did winning a silver medal make me happy? Of course. Even though I didn’t think we would—right up to the very moment it happened. Focus on playing instead of winning has served me well.
But amidst celebration, a small crisis unfolded. Joy quickly gave way to quiet panic.
The next evening after the medal ceremony, I stood in front of the mirror in my hotel room and noticed my necklace was missing. A necklace I hadn’t taken off for 24 months. It had become part of me—and I had grown fond of it. I didn’t know when or where I lost it. Somewhere in Poznań, or along my travels. I was certain it was gone for good. Still, I felt I should make an effort to recover it.
I looked at photos from the previous night’s medal ceremony on my iPhone. To my surprise, the necklace was still on my neck in the pictures. That tightened my hopes. I felt sure it was lost in the hotel room. I searched frantically—through the folds of the bedsheets, under the shower cap. No luck. I found a cleaning lady in the hallway. Using a phone translator—she spoke Russian and Polish, I English and Hindi—we managed to communicate. She said she had cleaned the room around noon and had found no necklace.
Disappointed, I walked to the front desk. The receptionist spoke very little English, but I managed to explain I had lost a necklace. I said I’d walked to the bridge venue and back that morning—it might have fallen there or along the road. He asked me to describe it. In as few words as possible (a technique I’ve discovered when language is a barrier), I said: “Gold with one diamond.” I hoped he understood.
I returned to my room disappointed in myself. Fifteen minutes later, the room phone rang. My hearing is not as good as it once was now at 75, so I knew a phone conversation wouldn’t go far. But I made another effort—I went to the front desk, with little hope. To my utter surprise, the receptionist was holding the necklace in his hand. Apparently it had fallen in the breakfast area, and a kind waitress had picked it up and turned it in.
What a recovery! I was relieved—especially because I didn’t want to carry the thought of a lost necklace through another week of bridge.
The next morning, I found Alicia, the waitress who had turned it in. I thanked her profusely. On the last morning before leaving Poland, I thanked her again at breakfast. But before I could speak, she smiled and said, “Nice necklace.” She looked innocent, with a charming smile. Ten minutes later, she returned to my table and said, “One day I’ll buy that kind of necklace for myself. It’s so beautiful.”
Many thoughts crossed my mind. How could I truly thank her?
I muttered, “If you give me your address, I’ll send you a similar necklace.” She smiled and replied, “Sorry, that’s not what I meant.” And I understood. She spoke fluent English. “I also love my job—the hospitality business.”
I considered giving her a gratuity, but it felt like it would trivialize her good deed. Would I have forgotten about Alicia if I’d simply handed her one or two hundred-dollar bills?
I’ll never know.
Back in my room, Alicia’s innocent face stayed with me. So I returned back to the breakfast area and asked my coach Morten—still finishing his meal—to take a picture of me with Alicia. It brought a big smile to her face. And to mine.
And I taught myself a lesson: Stop acting like a rich old lady.
Two big wins—one at the bridge table, one through a stranger’s kindness and grace.
Thanks, Alicia. Thanks, Poland.
24 responses
I understand, you didn’t want to patronize her/ trivialize the act by giving cash but given with humility and graciousness she would have been gratified.
American $ would have been good for her.
Congratulations for silver medal.
Loved your stories both about winning the medal (congrats) and about your losing and finding your necklace and how you handled your encounter with Alicia.
Beautiful story. Did you consider giving away the necklace to her.
Very good question.
I did actually, but for a split second only. I was not so generous!
Congratulations Vinita. WAY TO GO! So happy for you.
Winner in both events, bridge championship and lost/found your necklace. The third win by far —-HONESTY, the biggest of all.
Didi, I absolutely loved the story of the waitress…so heartwarming😍
There still are sweet, genuine and honest people out there.
And also Hearty Congratulations upon winning the Silver Medal👏👏👏
I think this is one of my favorites about humanity. Hers and yours. Being genuinely present in the moment is what it is about. 🥰
Hi Vinita,
Great story and experience-thanks for sharing! Lessons learned in many ways!
Thanks. So true!
I loved your honest answer
Vinita – Congratulations on your competition experience and reaching a higher goal 🙂 Alicia is a very gracious person and i think she has a really bright future with her work ethics and sincerity. Since she is in the hospitality industry, perhaps a good google review naming her will be beneficial to her and her team?
Have a great summer, Vinita.
HEARTIEST CONGRATULATIONS VINITA!
I AM NOT A BRIDGE PLAYER, BUT MY WIFE SAROJ IS. I KNOW HOW TOUGH A GAME IT IS. IT REQUIRES A LOT OF TENACITY TO GET A MEDAL IN INTERNATIONAL TWO WEEK BRIDGE TOURNAMENT.
SREEDHAR MENON
A very touching story Vineeta.
In spite of what the media says, there are a lot of good people and goodness in the world. Thanks for sharing.
Congratulations on the big win on the international stage.
Pradeep
Media stories don’t make us feel good. You are right.
Congratulations Vinita. Wonderful experience in Poland. , winning Silver medal and stranger’s kindness. Very memorable
I had similar experiences during my travel.
Cheers
thx this is very helpful – “Bridge is all about focus. There’s not much more to it—but that’s what makes it so difficult.”
“The hand is over. Nothing you can do about it.”
Certainly a ‘feel good’ story ! In today’s world, so full on negativity, it is so gratifying to see that honesty and humanity still exists. Your own conflict in dealing with the situation was also insightful. Congratulations on winning the silver medal.
Thanks, Prem.
Very touching story, Vinita. Something to consider is how lucky you were to have found your necklace. I cannot think of many places or people situations around the world where this would be the case. Honest people (who need the money) are pretty rare. Congratulations for your team’s silver medal. That is a big deal.
Thanks, Dominique.
Rare people are rare.
Thank you Vinita. My favorite article yet.
Congrats, mom, and this is a brave post to make. I really think giving Alicia the tip would’ve meant a lot to her. It’s not about the money, but about recognizing her kindness in a way she’d carry with her and because it could make a real difference for her. And like Neechu said, leaving a glowing review would go a long way in the hospitality world. I think you can still do both! I know it can sometimes feel like once you’ve made a decision, it’s irreversible (like having me 🙂 but I don’t think that’s the case here. Food for thought. See you soon, love you.
Thanks. I did follow up for writing a review for Alicia also.
Thanks.