St. Anthony at work

Don't ever give up on St. Anthony. He does his job as best he can. Sometimes he needs a little help from friends or strangers, but he's persistent and often very effective.

St. Anthony lived in Portugal in the 1200s. He was known as a gifted and eloquent speaker whose silver tongue inspired many lost souls to return to the church. Once he also lost a material item, prayed for its return and the person who took it brought it back.

So, in essence, we could think of him in a two-dimensional approach to things lost. I'm guessing I could identify with both categories, since I'm somewhat of a lost Catholic soul. Still, I cling to the elements of my faith that have deep meaning and even to what some might think of as Catholic gimmicks.

I believe in St. Christopher protecting me when I travel, and I believe that St. Anthony does his best to help us out when we've lost something. There's a jingle those of us St. Anthony followers use. It goes: St. Anthony, please look around; something is lost and must be found.

I can think of numerous times in my life when this plea for help has been answered, sometimes almost immediately. For some unknown reason, years ago, St. Anthony could never help me find our lost Golden Retriever named Pupper. That has always been a sad chapter in life.

I also lost a turquoise ring a few years ago and never found it. Like many material possessions, it wasn't exactly the ring but the story associated with it that meant so much to me. I had purchased it in Santa Fe while accompanying two of my younger journalism students around town. We had an incident scare the beejeebers out of us that evening while walking back to the hotel to meet the rest of our group.

A very creepy inebriated man started following us. As we walked faster, so did he. When we crossed the street, so did he. I had my purse already to land a good one on him, should he catch up with us, but we reached the back door of the hotel in time to shut him off from us for good.

The ring always reminded me of that experience and of the friendship with those two which has lasted to this day.

That's how it is with material possessions some times, and that's exactly how it is with that belt buckle I lost about three weeks ago. I mentioned in a past blog posting its significance. My sister won it at a state horse judging contest.

She won two buckles in two years, so she decided to give me one of the buckles, which I have cherished ever since as a reminder of our wonderful experiences at those judging contests---- in Southern Idaho, and, oddly enough, in New Mexico.

So, when I lost the buckle on that Sunday ride, I felt really bad. On the blog, I've chronicled all the efforts made since that day to find the buckle. Each was an adventure in itself, so the old jingle "Nothing ventured, nothing gained" comes to mind. So many good moments are stashed away in my memory bank because of the quest to find that buckle.

And, yes, I did talk to St. Anthony a few times. I hadn't given up on him but had finally put aside the notion that I'd ever see the buckle again------until Sunday.

A Chris Bier, who now lives at Jim McNall's place at Grouse Creek, called and said he'd seen the "Lost" notices I had posted near the start of the Cowboy Trail on the creek. He said he'd heard someone in his mountain biking club say something about a belt buckle with a horse head on it.

"Don't get your hopes up," he told me, "but I'll send out emails to everyone in the group and see if there's something to it."

I was guardedly ecstatic. After all, this had happened a few weeks after we lost Pupper. I heard an ad on the radio that someone in our neighborhood had found a Golden Retriever. I rushed to the address, which happened to be the Wyers family near Goobyville. Mrs. Wyers took me to the barn, and, sure enough, there stood a Golden Retriever smiling at us---------but not Pupper.

Talk about a feeling of emptiness.

So, I was prepared for the same disappointment in this temporary ray of hope.

St. Anthony was working his magic.

Last night Arlene Spinoza called me.

"I have your belt buckle," she said. "I found it that day after we saw you on the trail." She and her friend met us on their mountain bikes and visited with us for a few minutes on our way back to the horse trailer. At the time, I had no idea I'd lost my buckle. And, when Arlene found it, she had no idea where to call.

When she received Chris' email, however, she wasted no time calling me.

The moral of this story is multi-faceted. People are good. People care. In loss there is often gain. St. Anthony still maintains a good work ethic., so it's a good idea to keep calling on him.

So, many thanks this morning to my husband who told me to put up the signs, for all the people who helped me look for the buckle, to Chris Bier who took a few extra minutes of his time and especially to Arlene who picked up the buckle in the trail and held on to it until she knew who to call.

A good story with a happy ending, indeed.