Mr. Ray was the night janitor at Lincoln High School. Quiet, kind, and always humming old jazz tunes, he’d worked there for over 20 years. Most students knew him by name — not because he sought attention, but because he always greeted them with a smile and a clean hallway.

One evening, while mopping the back corridor near the gym, he spotted a black wallet under a bench.

He opened it only to find over $300 in cash, a school ID, and a crumpled college application letter.

It belonged to Jordan, a senior who worked part-time at the grocery store after school. Mr. Ray recognized him — polite, quiet, always the last one leaving track practice.

Ray walked straight to the principal’s office and turned it in without fanfare.

The next morning, the principal called Jordan in and handed him the wallet. Everything intact.

Jordan was stunned. “I thought it was gone forever. I saved that for college fees.”

He asked who found it.

When he learned it was Mr. Ray, he made a quick decision.

That afternoon, Jordan posted on the school’s social page, praising Mr. Ray’s honesty and kindness — and how such a simple act meant the world to him.

The post went viral locally. Comments poured in from former students: stories about Mr. Ray staying late to unlock a forgotten locker, repairing a ripped backpack, or helping someone clean up a spill with no complaints.

Inspired, the student council launched “Ray Week,” a fundraiser to help send Mr. Ray and his wife — who hadn’t taken a vacation in over a decade — on a dream trip.

Within a week, they raised over $5,000.

During a school assembly, they surprised him with the check, a suitcase filled with travel gear, and a standing ovation from every student and teacher in the building.

Mr. Ray, usually so composed, wiped tears from his eyes.

“I didn’t do anything special,” he said into the mic. “I just returned what wasn’t mine.”

But the truth was — he gave everyone something far more valuable: an example.