To Believe or Not to Believe

More than once, someone in our family has asked St. Anthony to aid them in locating a lost item, but my most vivid recollection is of a summer day at the beach. (St Anthony, in turn, petitions God with our wishes).  

For those of you who have been to the Outer Banks of North Carolina, you know that beaches can be crowded, almost blanket to blanket with sunbathers getting their rays. Now, my younger daughter, Julia, around ten at the time, had prudently taken off her rings and necklaces prior to going into the water. Lots of things can get loose and fall off in the midst of all of those waves! And to make extra sure her valuables were safe, she buried them in the sand just under a corner of our blanket. After a wonderful, fun-filled day, we all left for dinner. After dinner, I heard the “uh-oh” from Beth, which never means good news. She had just remembered her jewelry. When she said, “Mom, what should I do?” I replied that we should say a short prayer to St. Anthony and go back to the beach. Now I have no actual proof that there is even a St. Anthony, or that he was listening, or, even if he was, if he designed to help. My little girl, though, went to those acres and acres of sandy beach, where every patch of sand looks like every other patch. She went right to the place where her jewelry was buried and dug it up. Now, she may have subconsciously recognized geographic signs such as the way the dune plants grew, or the buoys were bouncing, but for me, this was nothing short of a miracle. I asked her how she knew where her jewelry was, and “‘she just knew’.”   Thank you, St. Anthony.