the magic of a lost pin

I know I lost the pin.  I don’t know what to do about it.

I’ve lost a pin before, a brooch, that is.  (I would rather use the word pin because I feel that brooch sounds old, and I’m not.)  And, just like this time, it was on the way to shul on Shabbos.  Actually, this time I don’t know when I lost it.  I know I put it on my jacket in the morning and it wasn’t there after Shabbos when ISHI brought it home.

It could have fallen off along the way, in shul, in the car (no, we looked).

Last time, it was a very expensive pin set with Roman glass that we bought in Israel during the first Intifada.  The shop keepers were so grateful when we bought anything and of course, I was much obliged to make them feel as grateful as possible.

And so when I realized that the pin was missing, I was very unhappy.  I really liked it on top of its expense.  I’ve lost many earrings and felt frustrated by the loss, but this was something else.  So what could I do?  I re-traced my steps to shul, searched everywhere, and nothing.  But I figured I had nothing (more) to lose, so I posted the loss on our Jewish community website.  Voila!  It was found and returned post-haste.

So, why haven’t I posted it this time?  Maybe I would have the same luck?

Okay, this is where it gets magical.

Or at least, this is where my thinking gets magical.

You see, the fellow who found my pin last time soon after that got divorced.

Oh, I know it wasn’t my pin!  This was a marriage that shouldn’t have happened in the first place, one of them.  But it makes me sad remembering it and I don’t want to go down that path of memory again.

Really? So you don’t want to find your pin, you’re thinking (see?  I told you it was magical).  It’s  a really pretty one, also made in Israel, with metallic blue and gold flowers.  I bought it here at a teachers’ convention a number of years ago, mostly to support the woman selling jewelry from Israel.

It’s nuts, I know.  But maybe I am thinking it will magically reappear, too.

If you see it, I know you’ll let me know.

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One response

  1. Pingback: you didn’t let me know, « But Mostly Hers

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