Just a thought... For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. [Luke 12:34]
There's been so much heaviness this week. A terrible weekend, followed by meagre steps towards doing or saying the right thing by the man supposedly in charge of the country, only to have him take two huge steps back just a day later. It was enough to break your heart, and the pain from our neighbours to the south is palpable.
I tried to lighten things up on Tuesday with a corn poll and thank you for playing along (except for one sourpuss who commented FFS on Facebook - which means "for...fruit's sake" or something). I hid that snark because...well, because I can. On a more sincere note, I also want to thank you for the words you posted after Friday's journal, the one about my nephew Michael. His mom, dad and stepdad were all grateful. And any bit of kindness helps, as we all know.
Yesterday, I wrote about neighbours and I bet you'll find yourself wishing that someone who passes you or wakes you up in the days or nights ahead had one of the Ford extras called The Good Neighbor option. But today. What to write about today?
I found myself almost getting weepy yesterday when I dug deep and found this story. The reason: I remember how upset my friend midday host at CHFI Michelle Butterly was when her husband Carl lost his wedding ring a matter of months after they were wed. On a cold winter's morning out walking the dog, the as-yet-to-be-sized ring slipped from his finger, plopped into the snow somewhere and was never found again...at least not by Carl or Michelle.
Here we have a story of an 84-year-old woman in Camrose, Alberta. Appropriately, her name is Grams. Yes, that's her real last name. Her first is Mary. She lost her engagement ring while weeding on the family farm over a decade ago. She dug and searched frantically but it never turned up. Mary says, "I cried so many times," but eventually she went and bought a cheap ring to replace the one she'd worn for over half a century. Her husband Norman, who's since passed away, never noticed, Mary says. In most cases, that would be the end of the story - but then, I wouldn't be telling you about it here today, would I?
Mary had only told her son about losing and replacing her ring, but it was Mary's daughter-in-law who came over to Grams' house to show her the most bizarre and wonderful sight: a carrot they'd pulled from the ground for dinner had grown through the ring to the point where it looked like a tiny gold belt around a very large waist.
Mary's daughter-in-law Colleen, who picked the carrot, noticed it was malformed and was going to feed it to the family dog. Instead, she spotted the gold and knew that, since the farm had been in the family for 105 years, it had to belong to her mother or mother-in-law.
This week Grams, surrounded by family, sliced into the carrot, washed the ring and put it on her finger. No jeweller, no fitting needed. Just a whole lot of luck.
The ring had found its way home, one carrot - or carat - heavier than when Mary Gram lost it weeding on the farm. You see? Sometimes there is good to be found. You just have to keep digging, is all.
I'll take a break here tomorrow and be back with you on Monday. Thank you, always. (And thanks also to the good folks at Caru, who sponsor the audio journal....)
(@erindavis on Twitter)