Ginny's Bracelet
And when she hath
found it,
she calleth her
friends and her neighbours together, saying,
Rejoice with me;
For I have found the
piece which I had lost.
— Luke 15:9
We were halfway across the country, under the blue skies of Chapel
Hill, N.C., for our daughter's college graduation. An old, old friend of both
my mother and my mother-in-law lives in nearby Greensboro. She arranged a wonderful
reunion luncheon.
She and my mother-in-law grew up together in Lincoln, and with
my mom were members of Kappa Alpha Theta Sorority at the University of
Nebraska-Lincoln over a half-century ago. Dad called them "Theta Potatas."
And Dad loved Ginny. I had never met her, but it was love at
first sight. Under snow-white hair were sparkling eyes, a radiant smile, and
the confident build of a lifelong athlete. She's an active grandmother who
loves to refinish old furniture and volunteers to hold newborn babies at her
local hospital. She loves 'em all, old and new.
My daughters and I were outgunned verbally - what a rarity!
-- so we sat back and reveled in the warmth and energy of the reunion of the
three long-lost friends. When they looked at each other, they must have seen
the girls they used to be. In my mind played the old camp song, "Make new
friends, but kee-eep the old; one is silver and the other's gold."
Just then, Ginny brought something shiny out of her pocket.
It was a sterling silver I. D. bracelet. On one side was
engraved, "Ginny Noble." That was her maiden name. On the other, it read: "From
The Gang. 2-10-45."
It seems that earlier this month, a fellow was using a metal
detector up at the Minnesota lake where the Noble family and many other
families from Lincoln spent the summers in the days before air conditioning.
There was snow on the ground up there, but the guy still
found something in the sand. It was badly tarnished and had some writing on it
that he could barely read. He slipped it into his pocket.
Later, two older women who were staying at the cottage next
door came outside. It was a surprise, since it was still about a month early
for the summer residents to arrive. He waved to them, and took out the
bracelet.
"Who's Ginny Noble?" he asked.
Who's Ginny NOBLE?!?
Their jaws dropped. They were old, old friends from Lincoln. They'd known her
since she was a girl. They had hung out with her at that very cottage . . . 60
years ago.
So they called her, down in Greensboro. She was elated to
hear about it. She vaguely remembered receiving the sterling silver bracelet as
a birthday present from her friends, and later losing it when the clasp must
have broken.
"Send it right down to me," she asked, telling them of the
upcoming reunion luncheon with my mom and mother-in-law. She had the clasp
fixed and polished it all up, good as new.
For six decades, that bracelet lay in the sand, forgotten
and meaningless, and would have stayed that way . . . except for the lucky
break that the two ladies were there and could tell the guy who Ginny Noble is,
so that the bracelet didn't get tossed away.
And lose its chance to say so much.
You see, my mother-in-law was in that gang of girls who gave
Ginny that bracelet on the occasion of her 13th birthday, six
decades ago.
And my mother, like Ginny, is a widow, for whom reassurance
that relationships are forever means everything in the world.
It was obvious that this happy accident wasn't just for
Ginny. This was a God thing. We all got tingles, and a little teary. We all
were beaming.
So who's Ginny Noble? I'll tell you who she is:
Someone for whom the circle of life is coming complete, just
like that bracelet encircling her wrist.
Someone for whom all that has been lost is being found.
Someone with silver hair rejoicing with the pure gold of old
friends over faithfulness . . . the faithfulness of the best Friend of them
all. †
