Through no fault of my own, I still have the plaid scarf my grandfather gave me. He bought it in Scotland, a long time ago...and the pattern is the tartan of the Cameron clan. I'm a descendant of theirs.
I think I was in college when he gave me that scarf, and I graduated in 1988. I've had that scarf ever since. I've lost it a few times and thought it was gone forever. In the days when I used to drink, I left it in a bar more than once. Someone returned it to me every time. Once I thought I lost it--and didn't see it until the following fall when I put on a jacket I hadn't worn all summer and found the scarf in the sleeve.
It's old now--threadbare in the middle. There's a six inch long tear in the middle, actually more wear than tear, but I stitched it closed.
I know it's not magic. From an intellectual standpoint, it can't be magic. There's no such thing as magic, right? Well... It's magic to me. That scarf holds memories of my Grandpa, and I aim to keep it. I'll probably misplace it again, but I won't worry. That scarf will find its way home.
Magic Parker Fountain Pen?
I lost a fountain pen about two months ago. It was a Parker fountain pen. Not a top of the line pen, but a good one. I paid $45 for the pen. Treated it with care and love. You see, it's the first purchase I made with money from selling my books. I bought it with my first royalties check. For that reason alone, the pen held special meaning to me.
I lost it in the parking lot at work. I looked for it a few days later when warm weather melted the snow. I couldn't find it. I remember hearing something fall out of my pocket no that cold snowy night, but didn't realize until I got home that the "clink" I heard must have been the sound of my pen falling out of my pocket when my shivering hands reached for my car keys.
There's a shuttle that takes us from the building to our cars. I mentioned the loss of my pen to one of the shuttle drivers, and he said he would look for it. I gave finding the pen a 0% chance. I hoped it didn't get washed down the drain. If I lost it, I wanted it to be found--preferably by someone with an appreciation of good pens--and used.
Tonight at work, the driver of the shuttle (he's one of several, but he's the one who promised he would look for it) came up to me and described my pen to me. He described it in more detail than I described it to me!
When I got on the shuttle tonight, I asked him if he found my pen. He grinned. "Said I'd look for it, didn't I?" he asked.
He sure did. He promised, but I wasn't going to hold him to it. In the past two months we've had all kinds of weather: snowstorms, and eighty degree days, and rain, and more snow, and ice! I thought that pen had washed down a storm drain at worst, and been found and carted off at best.
Know when he found my pen? Last Friday. It was in the parking lot, scratched but functional. It's coming home as soon as he brings it from his house (where he took it for safe-keeping) and brings it to work to give back to me.
No such thing as magic? ...Probably not. ...But maybe.