The Bracelet

I‘ve lost it.  Today.

I had not worn it for a year and more, I’m sure.

This morning, searching my jewelry collection for another treasure, the bracelet came to mind.  Soon I was holding it, remembering.

It was a Christmas gift from my daughter and her family oh so many years ago.  Their spellbound attention as I opened the elegant package scared me.  What had they done?  Were they too extravagant?  It was a gorgeous, delicate, exquisite bracelet…. looked expensive – dainty, special. I felt I was all of the above when I wore that bracelet.

Then I lost it. 

We had driven to a cookout several towns away.  Hadn’t been too long comfortably settled when the loss was discovered.  Heartbreak.  Immediately everyone helped look for it.  Nothing.  Came home a sad lady that night.  The next morning, there on our driveway, it was found.  “Thank You Dear God.” Ever after I gave particularly close attention to the clasp.

Then I lost it again.

In New England at a Jurisdictional Meeting of United Methodist Women, leaving the auditorium, I felt a brisk and firm tap on my shoulder. 

“This was on the floor back there.  Could it be yours?”   We had exited our long row of theater seats.  Now heading into the lobby, I turned, puzzled.  A lady was holding my bracelet.  I hadn’t missed it.  Again, I uttered my prayer of thanks.

The bracelet was put away until a jeweler strengthened the clasp.  Still insecure, I fashioned a clear-tape wrap of the clasp; extra secure when I wore it; looked tacky but I decided no one would notice.  For sure, it wouldn’t fall off my wrist.  Until the day I knew I was wrong.  It was unsightly.  I quit wearing the precious bracelet – until today.   

And now, it is lost, possibly for the last time.  I wanted to find it, have one more chance to respect my bracelet; properly covet the special gift.  I would do a thorough search; first a phone call.

                       +       +       +       +      +      +      +

“Father Bill”, he said after acknowledging I had reached St. Vincent’s church.

Quickly I assured him there was no real problem I had just returned home from an AARP meeting in the church and a bracelet, a gift from my family wasn’t on my arm; a thin, single strand perhaps antique gold filigree chain sprinkled with perhaps the tiniest diamond chips . . .  

“And very special to you,” Father Bill softly interrupted, moving right along to say, “I’m going out into the hall and meeting room right now to look for it….”I’m going right now,” he firmly repeated.   He didn’t hang up.  I didn’t hang up.  I didn’t dare.  Then there was the dial tone.  Disconnect had happened.  I waited another 10 minutes or so and redialed. 

“I had just called about a lost bracelet and spoke with Father Bill.  I was holding but the phone disconnected.”  

“Yes,” the voice on the other end said.  “I am Father Bill.  The bracelet wasn’t there but some of the members are still here.  I spoke with Dr. Danvers.  They will be on the look out.  Where did you park?  I will check the parking lot”.  Father Bill asked for my number.   “I’ll let you know.”  My anxiety about the bracelet disappeared.  I was at peace.

I had found a person of God who easily ministered to my distress.     

“Thank You Dear God for I found what I needed.“