I realize that a snarky, foolish blog is no place for a post about religion. But please allow me to go there for a moment. I was raised Catholic and attended Catholic high school. I stopped being Catholic the day I graduated in 1979. Catholic school knocked the religion right out of me. But a mysterious series of events over the last few days has me wondering…
First, a little background
One of my favorite pieces of jewelry was a birthday gift I received last year: a thin silver bangle bracelet with diamonds embedded on one side. It’s a simple piece but it works well with anything from jeans to a little black dress. I wear it three or four times a week and have a sentimental attachment to it.
My favorite bracelet
When it comes to storing my jewelry, if I’m near the jewelry cabinet in my bedroom when I remove anything from earrings to rings to my beloved bracelet, I’ll try to put it in the cabinet. But I also may put it in the nightstand drawer if that’s closer.
If I’m downstairs in the living room, I might place the jewelry in the end table drawer. If I’m in the home office/guest room? Put it on top of the desk or next to the computer desk. It sounds unorganized but it’s never failed me.
Last Saturday night as I dressed to head out to a dinner party, I opened the jewelry cabinet to don my favorite bracelet. I didn’t see it hanging in there, but there was no need to panic. I had an immediate vision of it sitting in the end table drawer down in the living room. I headed down the stairs, pulled open the drawer….not there. No reason to panic. I still had three more “usual” storage spots to check.
An hour later, and now a half hour late for the dinner party, I’ve checked and rechecked the five spots four times each. Now I’m panicking (well, not so much panicking, but my heart is breaking just a little). I decide to put it out of my mind and concentrate on having a fun Saturday night.
On Sunday, I spent at least two hours not only checking the five spots, but also on my hands and knees with a flashlight looking under every piece of furniture in my condo and sticking my hand between cushions of my sofa and upholstered chairs, some I haven’t even sat in for weeks. I also went out and checked my car – the floor and between the seats. Twice. Nothing. I really didn’t think I’d find it there or that it might be lost at the grocery store or the home of a friend I’d visited. I knew it wasn’t likely that it would simply fall off because of the type of clasp it has.
By now, I’ve whipped myself into quite a frenzy. I decided to try and settle in to watch the NASCAR race, hoping to take my mind off it. Since I wasn’t quite happy with how the race was going, I got restless and began searching again. For the 17th time. What’s that quote about the definition of insanity?
And what’s this got to do with church?
I’d resigned myself to the fact that my bracelet was gone. But as a final effort, I decided to post an appeal on my Facebook page asking the dozen or so friends who are local to my neighborhood (and are also dog parents and, therefore, walking around the Bubble) to keep an eye open in case it fell from my wrist as I walked Phoebe.
I was not prepared for the commenting on the post that came from beyond my friends within the Bubble. I was hit with friends encouraging me to pray to St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost and found. Who? What?
image via ourcatholicprayers.com
Dear St. Anthony of Lost and Found, please make my bracelet come around
Considering my lack of religion, I was skeptical that St. Anthony would pay much attention to my plea. However, throughout the day on Sunday, several more people jumped on my Facebook post saying they would pray on my behalf.
When I woke on Monday morning, I was absolutely possessed with the intention to go test drive a VW Tiguan immediately. The lease on my current car wasn’t up until October. I had been thinking about checking out the Tiguan, but really wasn’t going to start shopping around for a few weeks. Nevertheless, I HAD TO GO THAT DAY.
By 12:30pm on Monday, I had put a deposit down on a new Tiguan and was scheduled to pick up the new vehicle on Tuesday. When I got home, I began to clean out the old car. I lifted the lid of the console between the front seats and what did I see peeking out among the accumulated junk? The bracelet.
I have absolutely NO recollection of removing the bracelet while in the car last week. There’s no reason I would have. It’s not as if it interferes with my driving. Furthermore, if I had removed the bracelet in the car, why wouldn’t I have simply dropped it in my handbag sitting right on the passenger seat instead of lifting the lid of the console that I open perhaps once a month? You’ve got to understand too, I work from home, so I’m not even necessarily in the car every day.
But, no time to puzzle over it. I was overjoyed that my adored bracelet was back! I decided to post the update on Facebook to let the neighborhood know the search was over. Did St. Anthony have a hand in this? I’m still getting friends commenting that it was indeed his work. Dozens of comments and “likes” from friends who have known about this approach that I’d never heard before. They swear it works. Who am I to disagree? Apparently since St. Anthony couldn’t gain access to my condo to return the bracelet to me, he placed it in the console and orchestrated the scenario to quickly lead me to it. I just wish he could have chosen a less expensive route. But I guess that’s the payback for turning my back on the Catholic religion. See? That Catholic guilt never goes away.