The Breadcrust Again

A few weeks ago, I lost my rosary ring. It's a small ring with a crucifix and 10 little rounded nubs which I wore all the time. Part of it was the visible crucifix at all times, part was the discomfort caused by the little nubs against my other fingers - they reminded me to pray, and they reminded me who I represent.

I lost the ring one Sunday morning. I remembered having it before I left my house for Mass, but it was at Mass that I realized it wasn't on my finger. I thought maybe I'd dropped it when taking it out of my pocket as I got out of my car.

I realized in that moment that it was gone and I would ever find it. I did send up a prayer to St. Anthony, sort of half-hearted, but it was there. But the ring hasn't left my mind.

Part of my attachment to the ring is actually sentimental because the blessing upon the ring itself was an answer to a spiritual need.

I had purchased the ring during the week, and on Friday that week, I ran to the Adoration chapel to spend a little time with Jesus. I was feeling very unloved, very disconsolate, very frustrated with life in general. I really needed to know and understand God's love, so I went straight to the source and offered all of this up.

As I left the chapel, a priest, a local hospital chaplain, was coming out of the sacristy. He's from Africa, and has the BEST smile I've ever seen, which of course, really stands out! I didn't really know him, but his smile reassured me of his approachability, so I asked him to bless my ring.

I carefully held it in my hand and he exclaimed, "I can do more than THAT!"

So Father blessed my ring, and then placed his palm against my forehead and blessed ME!

I thanked him with tears in my eyes; God had answered my prayer, He had displayed His love for me, the reassurance of his presence and fidelity to us in even our smallest crises.

After that day, every time I looked at that ring, I saw not only the love of Christ who died for us on the cross, but the personal love for each and every one of us.

Then, this morning, as I was bringing the dogs in from our walk, I took a look at the bush containing my own personal breadcrust. It's still there, still lodged within the branches. I wondered if it would turn green or just disintegrate eventually?

From there, my eyes happend to drop downward to a stone at the base of the bush. And next to the stone, directly beneath the breadcrut, was a glitter of silver. I looked more closely...and it was my ring!

How on EARTH did it get THERE!?

I have no idea. I wasn't wearing the ring at the time I last passed through that door on the day I lost it. I don't wear the ring on dog walks, but only don it upon leaving for work or other things because of the design which has a propensity to get caught on things. I know for certain that on the day I'd lost it, it was not on my finger, and further, I'd been wearing gloves which I did not need to remove in order to open the door.

So how did the ring get there? Right there, with the mysterious breadcrust marking the very spot?

Thank you, St. Anthony. Yet another miracle to testify to God's love an fidelity.

Thank you, Jesus.