Monday evening, about 8:30 or so, I was sitting at home, talking to my daughter, when I happenned to notice that one of my rings was missing. And not just any ring--my paternal grandmother's wedding ring. It's a tiny thing, white gold with a chip of a diamond, not worth a lot in dollars but high in sentimental value. I'd had it sized down to a pinky ring and have worn it daily for years, and I'd planned on giving it to my daughter one day.
I jumped up and started looking around the house--my bedroom, the bathroom, the closet, even in the laundry hamper, anywhere it might be. I looked in my car, in my husband's truck. No luck. I felt a little sick to my stomach.
As soon as I got to work Tuesday morning, I began going to all the offices to see if it had been turned in. Nope. I asked one of the cleaning ladies. No. I looked in all the rooms I'd taught in the day before, searched my office and the breakroom. No luck.
On my way back in from lunch, I saw the other cleaning lady and asked her. Before I could even describe it, she smiled and said, "A little silver ring with a tiny diamond? It's in the small second floor Ladies Room on the vanity."
I ran down the hall and up the stairs, thinking "What are the chances that it's still there?" Down another hall, through the door, and yes, right there on the vanity, 24 hours or so after losing it, was my ring.
As I later found out, a friend in the office next to mine, LQN, had found it on the floor and debated about whether to take it to her office or leave it, finally decided to leave it, and placed it on the vanity so whoever lost it could find it if she came back.
I can't help but wonder how many people saw that ring and left it there for the rightful owner. My faith in humanity is renewed. My heartfelt thanks to all those honest people.