Tiny Bangle Where Are You?

"It's gone!" I shouted. "It's gone.!" Probably not the best words to yell out in a bank, filled with patrons, on a Friday, just before closing. All eyes were upon my panicked looking face now. There was no time to worry about that. "Now that I have everyone's attention", I cowered, "Could everyone look down around their feet?" (Now I saw the panicked looks on their faces as though they thought my pet rat had escaped my grasp) "My large diamond in my wedding ring is missing!" I had their full attention now, but felt a bit guilty lying, or should I say exaggerating about my diamond's size. My tiny hands, and the ONLY thing tiny about me, could not possibly display a large bangle. My diamond was not even Karet worthy, but it was GONE! Everyone was helpful now (maybe hoping to find the prize or get a reward.) Scoping the floor by all present produced only one thing, an unsuccessful treasure hunt.

I felt sad as I looked down at my ring. Chances of finding that center stone was like finding an icicle in a volcano. I told myself, "You just need to start retracing your steps." I remembered it being on the bathroom counter the day before, fully intact. I had been at home nearly all that time. My next step was to search my car. Oh fudge (or maybe I should say smudge and a few bits of sludge. Old hidden, half eaten dog biscuits were found in way too many places.

The car's floor hand pine needles, paper wrappers and pieces of what could have been French fries. The back seat had five jackets, two sweaters, six hats and a pair of gloves. It was summer. I found the multitude of pennies, dimes and quarters that had rolled under the driver's seat. This was not the treasure I was looking for. I gave up on my bangle being found there and went inside to wash my hands. By this time, I was getting a bit irritated for my ring had been inspected at its six months check- up just days prior. My irritation heightened as I learned that my insurance deductible for replacement was just one hundred dollars less than what the policy would pay me.

I knew I was just going through the motions for naught, but my hubby helped in my search. He was great (most likely worried about me wanting a new diamond) and got out the vacuum. I'd like to think I was a good housekeeping but throw that thought out the window. Listening to all the pieces of who knows what going up the vacuum's hose told me better. We emptied the entire vacuum cleaner's bag onto a large piece of plastic and because I knew gloved hands were not as sensitive, you guessed it, I used my bare hands. So nasty, it was and dirty and gross. And still there was no sparkling itsy bitsy little bangle.

I started looking at a replacement stone online. Big, big mistake, for I only became more depressed. Besides my ring had memories for me. It took me back to a day when I made promises, scared to death promises of marrying into a family with seven children when I already had five. Took me back to a promise to love and cherish not only him but the six- bedroom, four- bathroom home on one acre. I drew the line on obey. I had gone through nursing school with all my children and no man and took charge of eleven nurses at a time. For sure, that word was omitted. My ring was a symbol of a binding love that would grandparent over three dozen children, face cancer, move six times in five years and bury yet another child.

I was exhausted. My heart was broken. Although the car, the kitchen and all floors were clean, I had this sadness that I had lost a treasure that no other stone COULD replace.

When night came, I escaped to my bedroom and took my troubles to the man I love the most. I had seen him perform so many miracles in my life. Big ones! Survival after divorce. Nursing school after divorce and living through the death of my oldest son.

I hardly knew how to begin my prayer. I felt conflicted; ever so conflicted. I never set my heart upon the things of this world, yet there I was asking him to find my Bangle. I tried to make myself feel better by reminding him how tiny it was; hardly something that would blind you, I told him. I knew he was smiling. God has a wonderful humor. Look at me, tiny feet with hammer toes, a back that curves to the right and rump circumference that measures, well, yes, he is smiling. He did give me a tiny nose and a kind heart.

I end my prayer by asking him to send his Angels to help me out.

I tell him that this is nothing compared to the show- stoppers he has granted me so far. He gave me my sense of humor, which I cherish and with that, I retired from a long, exhausting, sad day.

My dog Tinkerbell, the one who loves to hide doggy biscuits, wakes me from a not so restful sleep by licking my face. She has to go potty. I tell her, "Not before me" and on a beautiful summer's morning we head to the potty park. Poodles are very smart and this little eight pounder is no different. I cannot spell the word "Potty Park" and definitely not say it before her tail is wagging and she is looking for her collar. The very small amount of Maltese in her sometimes overpowers the poodle and STUBBORN! Yes, she is stubborn. This morning will prove me right for when we get to her "Potty Park" which is all about the smells and not actually a park at all, she becomes very disobedient. Her little park runs the length

of forty feet or so and is sandwiched between two enormous Pine trees. Many dogs call it their "Potty Park" also and Tinkerbell is in heaven trying to cover oh, so many smells. Today however she pulls me past her length of grass and wants to take a sharp right where the sidewalks intersect. Her leash tangles around my legs and I have to lean down and unwrap it. When I look down a see something odd on the sidewalk. It sparkles. Thinking it is a small piece of glass, I pick it up. My heart almost emplodes! There, cupped in my hand is my diamond, my tiny little Bangle; such a small thing for Him but everything.....to me.