It was a small thing, really, an earring. That piece of jewelry and its pair meant a lot to me. And I was distraught when I lost it.

But hold on. There’s more to this story.

First, the earrings are Native-made from the Four Corners area of the Southwest. That’s where my sister, Christine, bought them. They were a gift from her several years ago, which adds to their value.

I loved the earrings’ design created in silver and a bit of coral. So have countless strangers who have stopped to tell me. A Taos Pueblo shop owner told me he hadn’t seen that quality in twenty years.

I wore them almost every day.

But then one night about two weeks ago while watching TV, I touched my right earlobe and discovered the earring was missing. Oh, no.

So, the search began, hampered from the get-go because I didn’t know exactly when I lost the earring — only when I discovered it was gone. I searched the apartment we’re renting and the house we’re renovating. Both cars. Hank helped. Nothing.

Then I retraced my steps for the day.

Since moving to Western Mass., I’ve been typically wearing three tops, a heavy jacket, scarf, and woolen hat because it’s so darn cold and damp. Could I have lost the earring when I removed one of them during my errands?

I asked at the coffee shop and stores in the village. Nothing. (I must say from what I’ve seen, people lose a lot of eyeglasses.) I searched the ground where I walked. Nothing again.

Two weeks passed. I became philosophical about attachment and loss. Perhaps, as a daughter suggested, I could turn the sole survivor into a pendant.

But every time I’d see one of my photos, I would be wearing those earrings. Damn, they were a part of me.

Then the other day, we had a wet four inches of snow . I grabbed a shovel to clear my parking space at the house. Because it’s so close to the road, it catches a lot of heavy snow from the highway department truck’s plow blade.

As I shoveled snow, I notice something shiny on the ground. I looked closer. Yes, it was the earring. It must have fallen beneath the car when I took off my hat or a scarf or something else.

I cried out loud at my good fortune. Hank, who was working inside, was surprised when I told him.

During the past two weeks, there was a long spell when that parking space was clear to the asphalt. Why hadn’t I noticed the earring before? I guess I just wasn’t looking there.

So, where are the earrings now? That night I cleaned and polished them with a jeweler’s cloth and put them away for safekeeping until I no longer wear heavy clothes. I vow to use guards on the hoops. In the meantime, I wear a pair that would take quite a yank to lose.

Is there a lesson here? Oh, sure, probably something about faith and attachments. But the God’s honest truth? I’m just happy to have it back.

SOME WRITING NEWS: Thanks to Fiona Mcvie for hosting me on her author blog. Here’s the link: https://authorsinterviews.wordpress.com/2018/02/22/here-is-my-interview-with-joan-livingston/