I can’t tell you how many objects I’ve lost over the years—favorite sweatshirts, car keys, gloves, hats, one half of a pair of socks, sunglasses, my cell phone, my digital camera. Most times, those things were gone for good (I hope someone in the Dominican Republic is enjoying my vacation photos at least). But the story of Michael Amberson, in the Gadsden Times this week, gives me hope that I may still find the more meaningful things I’ve lost.
Less than a year ago, Michael’s grandfather passed away. Grandpa Charles had taught Michael a lot about the things he’d need to get ahead in life. Like when Michael graduated Gadsden High School in 1996. Grandpa Charles paid the down payment for Michael’s class ring and helped his grandson set up a payment plan at the jewelry store to teach him how to establish good credit. That gift, and the lesson that came with it was just one of many memories that Michael recalled after his grandfather died. It was just too bad that Michael had lost the ring somewhere in his dorm his freshman year at Jacksonville State University.
Then, two weeks ago, a man named Chad West was mowing the lawn for a friend in Gadsden when he spotted a glint of metal at the foot of a dogwood tree. He bent down and picked the object up. It was a ring, a class ring—with the name Michael Amberson engraved inside.
Michael’s number wasn’t listed in the phone book. Chad was unsure how to ever find the owner—did he even live in Gadsden anymore? Then the answer fell into his lap… literally. See, Chad was a mailman, and as he sorted through his stack of mail to deliver one day, he spotted an envelope with Michael Amberson’s name on it. Last Friday, the ring that meant so much to Michael came back to him.
Jacksonville State University and Gadsden are more than 22 miles from one another. It had been 14 years since the ring was lost. And yet, in Michael’s time of grief, the ring that was tied so closely to memories of his Grandpa Charles ended up right where it would be found… by a mailman, one person who could definitely deliver it.
None of this means my camera will ever make its way back to me (or that my lost socks will rejoin the ones they’ve abandoned). But it’s good to know that there’s something reuniting people with the beloved things they thought had been lost forever.
Has something meaningful to you been lost, and found, in a surprising and mysterious way? Let us know at mw@guideposts.org.
