I have a couple pieces of jewelry that I wear every day without fail. My white gold Rolex watch that my parents gave me when I got my MBA and a set of matching diamond ring and earrings that look like shooting stars.
Saturday night, I came home and started removing my jewelry to get ready for bed. Off came my watch, then my ring, then one earring. The other earring was gone! I flipped out. I never lose anything (except umbrellas). I checked and double-checked my bathroom, the sink. I scoured my home. I retraced my steps downstairs to the garage, looking all through my car. I quadruple-checked my purse. No luck. Oh no! I was devastated. The earring could be anywhere. Most likely hidden in sand. Therese and I had taken Dominic to the playground. We’d walked from their home to the playground in Potrero Hill. It could have fallen during the walk. It could be near the swings or the see-saw. I was beside myself.
I made a few phone calls, alerting people that I had lost one of my most treasured possessions. The last call that night was to my mom. “Mom, you know how I don’t lose anything? I just lost my diamond earring. I don’t know where it is!”
“You have to pray.”
“I did pray.”
“You have to pray to Saint Anthony.”
So I said a special prayer that night to Saint Anthony, the Saint who helps you find things.
In the morning, I made a few more phone calls then headed down to Union Square. I walked into Anthropologie, the women’s clothing and home furnishing boutique owned by Urban Outfitters. There were a handful of sales attendants on the main floor. I targeted one of them. “Hi, I was here yesterday. I tried on a lot of stuff and bought a few things. Well, I lost a diamond earring. It looks like this (showing her my ring on my right hand).”
Without hesitating, she perked up, “I found it. In the fitting room. Let me go get it.”
She came back with my earring and I seriously had tears in my eyes. “Omigosh, you don’t know what this means to me. Thank you so much!”
“Eternally grateful. Yeah, no problem.”
So grateful was I that I went to the nearest Starbucks, purchased a gift card, and scribbled her a note that read: ‘Thank you for your kindness. xoxo, Catherine’
I went back to the store to hand it to her which she thought was really nice.
Anyhow, when I told my mom that I’d found my prized possession, she was adamant. “Yep, it’s Saint Anthony. I’m telling you.”
What a blessing, eh? Not only that, the first woman I talked to at Anthropologie was the one who had actually found it.
Later on when I told Marc the story, he said, “I don’t know why you got that chick the Starbucks card. Saint Anthony was the one who did all the work.”