the anecdotal christian

The Ring

In Uncategorized on May 25, 2011 at 4:26 PM

I go to a female dentist and while that’s not something new these days its still a departure for me.  That means out of the repertoire of medical professionals that I use from time to time my dentist is the only “Lady” in the group.

I hate to go to the dentist and I know that’s not anything new for most of us either.  But I am not a wuss…or at least I’ve never considered myself to be less than a manly man…(did you here a trumpet blast or is it just me)… at any rate I have a good reason for not liking to go to the dentist.  You see when I was a child my mother had us go to a dentist who liked to drill and fill but didn’t use anything to deaden the pain…and there was a lot of pain to go around.  So when the thought of me and a dentist come into focus together I relive those childhood adventures in a nanosecond in my brain and instantly decide the best course of action is for me not to go.

A week or so ago I notice a cracked filling in the side of one of my molars. I’d been putting off going to get my semi-annual cleaning for a couple of months anyway…and so…because I had to, I made the appointment and went.  It was while we were waiting for the Novocaine to take effect that my lady dentist told me this story.

Sadly her 87-year-old mother had died last September.  She had lived in a large rambling house situated on a knoll overlooking the Lake of the Ozarks in Missouri.  It was where the children in the family had been raised and was the only ‘Home” any of them had ever known.  The now grown children had gone back to bury their mother and to settle whatever business there was of her Estate.

Linda, my dentist, had told her brothers and sisters that the only thing she really wanted from the house was the small gold ring that their mother had worn.  Even though she had asked each of them if they had seen it no one seemed to know where it was.

As she continued it seemed that Linda’s mom had been quite a collector and had a self-described slight case of OCD that revealed itself in the fact that she had loved to clip articles from newspapers and magazines that she found of interest.  She would take the articles and file them in folders that were stored in labeled boxes.  Every category had its own box and each box contained files that pertained to a number of sub-categories.  All of the boxes stayed in perfect order and were housed in one particular room of the house on the lake.

After an exhaustive search throughout the mother’s possessions the ring could not be found.  Time was running out because the “Kids” had to be finishing up their work so they could return to their homes and respective families.  They had made the corporate decision that all of the files and boxes were to be thrown away because they had no meaning or relevance to anyone in the family except for the matriarch who had passed away.  This cleaning out process was to be one of the last chores for the family before they adjourned.

The last day came and all of the family members said they wanted to go down to the lake one last time before heading off to the airport or to get on the road.  They had encouraged Linda to go with them but she had said, “No, I’m just going to stay here in the house for a while and visit with some of Mother’s things.  You guys go ahead, I’ll be fine by myself.”

After everyone had gone and the house was quiet once more Linda walked into the file room.  Where would I even start to unwind all of these files was her first thought as she viewed the volume of boxes stuffed with the files and clippings.  And with that as a continuing thought she settled  down on the floor to be surrounded by her mother’s work as a way of saying goodbye one last time.

Linda reached out and touched two file boxes, one on each side of where she knelt.  She removed the lids of the two boxes and then lifted out one file from each.  She leaned back and rested on a stack of the containers that encompassed her.  As she started to leaf through the first of the randomly chosen files a gold ring sparkled as it left the darkness of the file and fell to the floor beside where she sat.  It was, of course, the ring that she had been looking for that had belonged to her mother.

Linda picked up the ring and held it between her index finger and thumb.  As she peered through the center of the ring she focused on what was on the other side of her hand and saw the hundreds of angel figurines that her mother had collected or had been given throughout her life.  At that moment Linda was conscious of literally being surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of angels in as many different colors, shapes and sizes as could be imagined.  All the while she clung to her mother’s small gold ring that had meant so much to her.

Linda was later to find out that the ring was actually the wedding ring that once belonged to her great grandmother.

One lost ring miraculously found in one of two randomly selected files from a room stacked with boxes all containing similar file folders surrounded by a host of angels.

Sounds like a God story to me.

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