Last Friday, when I got home, I realized that I had lost one of my Oscar the Grouch mittens. It had been an unseasonably warm day, and so I carried my coat, rather than wear it, as I walked to my parking lot at the end of the day. Somewhere along the way, one Oscar mitten had fallen out of his pocket.
I was so sad; I’d only had them for a couple of weeks (and had been coveting them for weeks before that). And I just knew, there was no way I was getting him back. I work at a university, so an Oscar the Grouch mitten, even a singleton, would have extra appeal.
The next day dawned much, much colder, with a terrible wind that had some serious 35-mile-an-hour gusts. But I realized, if I didn’t go back that day, there was absolutely zero chance I’d find him. So, on a foolish mission of hope, I drove all the way to work and walked the 10 minute walk to my office in the bitter wind, just in case he might be somewhere along the way. I scoured the path I took from my office to my car, looking to see if someone had picked him up and put him in a safer place.
As I turned the last corner to my building, to my disbelieving eyes, there he was! Oscar was sitting on a snow bank, where someone had put him. He was, in fact, *frozen* to the snow bank, because it had rained the night before, and then the temperature had dropped below freezing. The picture above is what he looked like after his night all alone.
I was overjoyed and very, very surprised to have found him again.
So today’s diversion is, what’s your story of something that you were certain that was lost for good, but you later found?