My grandma used to say three Hail Marys whenever she lost something of value. That little act of faith has brought about many little miracles, including once when the lost object fell onto a dining room table seemingly out of thin air. Last Friday, my wife was almost inconsolable over the loss of her pinky ring given her by her grandmother twenty years ago. She’d worn the tiny ring every day of her life. It was very tight, even on her most feminine, graceful finger. When she told me how much it meant to her, I offered my grandmother’s little prayer for return of the ring. Angela was convinced that she’d never see it again.
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