78 years ago today, in the hot and humid small town of Augusta, Kansas, my grandparents were married. My grandfather preached at a tiny little country church and also ran the portrait photography studio in town. My grandmother was a teacher at an honest-to-goodness one-room schoolhouse where her students ranged from age 6 to 14.
It was 1935, still in the midst of the Great Depression, and yet, they managed to scrambled together enough money for a small wedding at my great-grandparents’ home. My grandfather also had scrimped and saved enough to buy my grandmother a wedding ring. It wasn’t anything fancy—there was more white gold around the small flecks of diamonds than the stones themselves, but they were diamonds none the less. A ring that could last for an eternity.
My grandparents had a wonderful marriage for the next 44 years (until my grandfather passed away). Afterwards, my grandmother continued to wear her wedding ring (as well as a lovely diamond solitaire anniversary ring) every day for 20 more years after that.
When my grandmother reached her 90’s, in failing health, my mom and I had to make the decision to bring her to Chicago to live in a nearby nursing home. The nursing home advised that she should not bring anything of value with her (as things could easily be lost or misplaced). So, my mom kept my grandmother’s rings at her house for safe-keeping.
That was 13 years ago and long forgotten. When my grandmother died a few years ago, I seemed to think she had been buried with her rings on.
So imagine my surprise this past week when my stepsister, Holley, called to tell me what she had just discovered while going through boxes of old clothes and such at my mom’s house (Holley has been an enormous help to sort through the mountains of stuff).
She came across an old, warn, wallet that looked empty, and was about ready to toss it into the trash when she thought she’d better take just one more look. Inside, she found few old photographs and a whopping sum of four $1 bills. But, tucked deep into the last compartment, she found one more thing that was simply mind-blowing and amazing….my grandmother’s rings!
Now, if that’s not cosmic enough, when I went to try them on, I discovered that they fit me absolutely perfectly (unlike all of my mom’s rings which have been too small).
Remember the story about my grandmother’s gift of faith? Well, I’m convinced that either she or my grandfather were up there doing a bit more “divine intervention” this past week to get these rings rediscovered just in time for their anniversary, and to give these rings a renewed purpose—to be loved and cherished by their granddaughter for an eternity!