Reading "Life and theft on the 6:01 to Hicksville" [Expressway, April 19] reminded me of my daughter's commute on the Long Island Rail Road to Hunter College.
One time, while applying hand lotion, she took off her rings and put them on her lap. She got up quickly, and one ring was lost. It was a ruby inside a heart-shaped diamond setting, a gift from a relative.
Two years passed, and one day another passenger approached her. He took out his wallet and produced the ring. "I have been carrying it for two years ever since the day it flew off you knees, hoping to meet you," he said.
My daughter was crying telling me this story, and so was I.
Alla Gershburg, Old Bethpage