Do You Believe in Miracles?

Or when something extraordinary happens, do you just chalk it up to beating the odds? (For those of you who argue with me about math's usefulness – here's another example ;-) Let me tell you what happened last week, and you tell me: miracle or odds.

For our 20^th wedding anniversary last year, The Engineer bought me a gorgeous, pink sapphire ring with diamond accents. OK, that's not entirely true. He PAID for the ring which I picked out.

Ever since he gave me a toaster oven for Christmas the first year we were dating, I've picked out my own gifts and said, “Here honey, look what you got me!” We joke about it. “How did you know that a this would be perfect? You're such a good shopper!” I've worn it everyday since.

Monday was no ordinary day. I was finally starting to feel human again, the boys were leaving for hunting on Wednesday, and I had to buy their groceries, and get all the clothes washed so they could pack.

I filled a cart over the brim at the grocery store. It was meticulously packed. The checker, as he was filling bag after bag, decided I needed two carts to get everything out to the car because he wasn't a good packer. I got everything inside the house. I put everything away, I packed the food for the trip. During this outing, I'd used every reusable cloth grocery bag I own.

As I was folding load of laundry number five, I needed lotion. As I was putting it on, I noticed, to my horror, that the stone was missing from my ring. I was despondent. What are the odds of finding something of that size after all that my hands had done in the last four hours? NOT VERY GOOD. Chances slim to none. It could be hiding literally anywhere in the house, a bag, the store, the parking lot...

I don't give up easily though, so I called the store and asked them to look out for it. I tore apart my bed, where I fold laundry. I started to think about where I might have dinged my hand and realized that shoving all the sandwich makings into the meat drawer might have put some pressure on my hand. I took the drawer all apart. No stone.

Next I decided that why not go through all the cloth grocery bags that I'd folded and put away after emptying them. I had to do something, and might as well do a complete-able task. Most have that rubbery bottom flap thingie to stabilize them. I took it out when possible, and ran my hands under the ones that were attached. I came to a bag with no bottom rubber thing, so I just shook it out.

“Tink, tink, tink.”

Something fell out of the bag. Pebble, probably. But I looked around on the wood floor, and there was my pink heart. INCONCEIVABLE! I was floored. I cried. I called the store back, and told the same nice lady in customer service that I'd found it. “That's completely amazing!” I agreed.

So you tell me, miracle, or just beating the (almost impossible) odds? I'm voting miracle.

Have you ever lost, and then found something precious that you were unlikely to ever see again? Do you believe in miracles? Do you buy your own gifts because you're married to such a great shopper like I am?

~Tina