As my friend Meg was driving to her niece’s wedding, she realized her mother would have been 80 years old on this day, had she lived. Meg was filled with loss and grief. My friend is deeply spiritual, sensitive, intuitive. She knew it was silly, but she wished for a sign that the spirit of her mother was at the wedding, watching her grandchild’s big day. I don’t know if she prayed for it, but the longing certainly was there.
It was a huge wedding. There were 400 people under a giant tent. There were tables and food and drink, music, dancing, and at midnight Meg found herself moving from her table to the far side of the tent, to watch the dancing from a different point of view. Standing in the dark, she caught a glint of light in the grass at her feet. She reached down and picked up an exquisite sapphire and moonstone bracelet, and what was surprising was that it exactly matched the ring that she had put on that evening for the wedding.
“It belongs to someone,” she thought, clipping it on her wrist for safekeeping. “She’ll call for it tomorrow, and then I can return it.”
A little later the mother of the groom saw her. “Oh, that’s your mother’s bracelet!” she exclaimed. “I’ve seen it on her many times.”
How had the bracelet gotten there? How had Meg found it in the dark on the grass at midnight among a crowd of 400 people?
“Of course you keep it,” said her mother’s friend. “I think she’s just given it to you.”
