One of the things I am doing right now is finding the small ways in which I can grow. In an uncontrollable situation I find the small things that I can do to feel more stable comforting. This week it was ironing shirts (not that there is anywhere to wear shirts that require ironing). But now when I go into my closet the option to wear nicer clothes exists and it’s nice to feel like I have choices.

Several weeks ago the exercise was to clean out my jewelry box. I did this early in Covid and found an unfamiliar high school ring. And with the time we all have on our hands these days, I pulled out my year book and reached out on Facebook to all of the women whose monograms and graduation year matched. I exchanged notes with several lovely people but none of them claimed the ring. I reached out to the school, in hopes someone had left a message there should it be found, bupkis. I wasn’t going to send it to the ring company – not that I was a phenomenal caretaker – but it felt warmer with a person than in a cold desk drawer. 

My last resort was an option I had suspected but hoped would not be true. A student in my school, two years younger than I, had passed away. If the ring was not hers, I did not want her family to be hurt or harmed in any way by my reaching out. However, with all other avenues exhausted and all of the details aligned – monogram, year, etc. It seemed the only path forward.

I stood in my kitchen cutting vegetables and having a familiar back and forth conversation in my head, “Should I mail them the ring?” 

A cardinal landed on my deck and sang back as though in response, two long strong notes.

I thought, “Will it do more harm than good?” 

The cardinal sang again, as if giving approval. Once those second extended notes were done, it flew away. 

In that moment I felt certain of my decision. Please let me first make clear, that wildlife does not often convene on my porch or commune with me, however in this instance, it felt significant. 

And so, thank goodness her parents were voters, and still in the area, I looked up their address. I wrote a note explaining how I found the ring and was certain it rightfully belonged to them. I mailed the package and hoped for the best.

Have you ever done something like this? Returned a long lost treasure? Felt in your heart you were doing the right thing but still concerned it might do more harm than good?