For centuries, married couples have shown their commitment by exchanging rings. Gold or silver, the bands are a symbol. A circle has no beginning and no end—just like lifelong love.
It’s no wonder that losing a wedding ring can be so upsetting. And why finding it again can be nothing short of miraculous. Here are stories submitted by readers who lost their wedding rings, only to have them returned in incredible ways.
Thérèse Tinguely from Pinawa, Manitoba, Canada
I was at work at the library. One day, busy at the front desk, I happened to glance at my hand. My stomach dropped. My engagement ring was firmly on my finger, but the diamond was gone! The setting must have loosened after 30 years of wear. Panicked, I retraced my steps. No luck.
That stone represented all the love and memories my husband and I had shared over the years. I couldn’t imagine replacing it. So I did what any good Catholic would: I said a prayer to Saint Anthony, the patron saint of lost things.
Two nights later, an odd thought popped into my head: Take a flashlight to work and look in the back room. I’d already searched there. But the thought kept nagging me.
I went to work early the next day, flashlight in hand, feeling a bit silly. Instead of reaching for the back room’s light switch, I turned on the flashlight and moved the beam along the floor, then up along the shelves. There was a twinkle of reflected light. Front and center on a middle shelf was my diamond. How it got there was a mystery. How I found it was not.
Sherry Neuharth from Yankton, South Dakota
The day I lost my wedding ring, I’d been making caramel corn. My husband, Curt, and I own a small business that makes gourmet popcorn. I’d been so busy working that day that I didn’t realize my ring was gone until I got home. I tried to remember where I’d been, where I could’ve lost it. There was no way it could be in one of the popcorn bags, right? I’d been wearing gloves the whole time. Still, I couldn’t find the ring anywhere. Lord, please, help me find my ring!
Curt and I sold the caramel corn at an art and craft show in Iowa. “I’ve lost my wedding ring,” I told customers. “If you find it in this bag and return it to me, you’ll get free popcorn for a year!” We sold more than 100 bags, but no one came forward. I was so disappointed.
We had about 40 bags left after the show, so we donated them to our church. A month later, our pastor called. Most of the bags had been given to a homeless shelter. The last one had been served at the church’s Christmas party. One of the secretaries was helping herself when she spotted a particularly shiny kernel at the bottom of the bowl. Except it wasn’t a kernel at all. It was my ring!
Makaylah Albrecht from Spokane, Washington
“My ring is missing!” My grandmother’s voice rang out over Deer Lake.
My cousins and I stopped splashing in the water and exchanged concerned looks. Nana had joined us for a swim in the lake near our family cabin in Washington State, where we all gathered every summer. Somehow Nana’s ring—which had been her mother’s wedding ring and left to Nana after her parents died—had slipped off in the water.
My father donned a snorkel and goggles and jumped into action. He swam back and forth, combing the shoreline for hours while Nana watched from the dock. Finally he emerged, empty-handed.
“I’m sorry, Mom. It’s gone.”
“I have faith I’ll see it again,” she said. “God will return my ring to me.”
But after a long summer of playing and diving in the lake, none of us had found the ring. We closed the cabin for the season.
The next year, back at the cabin, my cousins and I were out catching crawdads with a homemade trap. I dove into the lake with the trap under my arm. Once I reached the bottom, I picked up a rock to weigh down the trap. A glint of something gold, half-buried in the sand, caught my eye. Nana had been right. After all this time and against all the odds, here was her ring.
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