Rafi swung down his tennis racquet. "Okay, game's over. I have to go home."

He picked up his racquet and waved goodbye to his friend Daniel. He decided to walk through the park to go home. As Rafi walked, he noticed something lying in the path. He walked over and picked it up. It was an old brown leather wallet. He stood up and looked about him — there was nobody around to whom it could belong. He opened the wallet, and his eyes lit up. There was money inside, quite a bit actually. There were no cards, though, just a photograph of two small children, a girl and a boy.

Now, he remembered learning about this in school. Returning lost articles is a topic in the Torah. If there is no name, no way to return it, he can keep it. Well, he definitely had what to spend it on. It looked as though there was almost $100 inside there. He could buy a new tennis racquet, as his was getting really old, or he could get a camera, as he had always wanted one, or... His mind was still busy thinking of ways to spend the money when he arrived home. He went upstairs and showed the wallet to his sister Rina.

"What do you think of that? No name, no identification. It's mine!" Rina looked a bit doubtful.

"If I lost that, I would be pretty miserable," Rina pointed out. "And anyway, there is some sort of identification. There's a photograph."

"Well, I don't know who the children are," Rafi argued. "It would be virtually impossible to find out who they are."

"One moment," Rina said, "they are wearing school uniforms. Who has a green uniform? One moment, don't the Rosen children wear uniforms like that?" The Rosens were the Cohens neighbors. Rina insisted on going to ask the Rosens if they knew the children in the photograph. Rafi followed, not looking very happy. Michael Rosen said that yes, he knew them. They were called Joel and Rachel, but he couldn't remember their surname. Perhaps his brother David would remember their surname. David was coming home at 7:30. Rafi and Rina went home and waited for David to phone.

At 7:30, the phone rang. Rafi closed his eyes and answered the phone. It was for his father. The phone rang again five minutes later. It was David Rosen; the children's surname was Rabinow. David gave Rafi the Rabinows' phone number. He phoned the number, and a woman with a squeaky voice answered the phone. "Yes! You found it!" It was actually her mother-in-law, the children's grandmother, who had lost the wallet, but she was extremely grateful to Rafi for being so honest — and for working so hard to find the owner.

Later that evening, Rafi's father came over to him. "Rina told me about this wallet business, Rafi. I'm very proud of you for working it out. It must have been quite difficult to give it up. Actually, the commandment of returning lost objects to their rightful owner is mentioned in this week's Torah portion. So it's quite a timely good deed!"

Rafi tried not to think of the tennis racquet and the camera. After all, it feels good to do a good deed. And he did feel happy for the grandmother who got back her wallet.