A Little Perspective From Tom Church

I’ve never been hugely religious, and I’ve never been absorbed entirely with Catholicism, which has been impressed upon me since my modest beginnings.

I rarely have religious or divine experiences, and honestly, my philosophy is this: I’m often told “you’re too young for this,” and so if I’m too young for so many things, I must be too young and too prefrontal-cortexally-underdeveloped to have a stance on religion.

But I have those moments that so many others have: those quick little spurts of belief in Something, usually because we need something in return. “I know I’m not a religious man, but Gawd, I always beleev’d in yas, and…”


When I lose something dear to me, I say Saint Anthony’s prayer. It helps me feel better. And I don’t expect it to work, I never do. I’m realistic, and I’m understanding of this aspect of the universe. Sometimes things don’t happen, no matter how much you hope for them, and that’s okay. Those are out of your hands. And the really good things always happen to you, anyway.

But this time, my prayer worked. I don’t know who Saint Anthony is and I don’t read the Bible nearly enough to call myself a Catholic. All I know is that Tony’s the Patron Saint of Lost Stuff.

I was walking on the beach today with Erin, her sister, and a few of her sister’s friends. And as we trotted down the beach together, picking up sea glass and nifty little things, I slipped my ring off my pointer finger and onto my ring finger. It’s a bit big on my ring finger, but I keep it there because Erin likes it better there.

I slid a few shards of sea glass into my back pocket and felt something else: the dime I’d found earlier that day. It was face-up, and so that meant (to me, and my ludicrous mind) that taking it with me would give me ten times the luck of a face-up penny.

Minutes later, I realized: my ring was gone.

This is a ring I cherish. A ring Erin gave me to symbolize her love for me. And losing it left me distraught, worried, and scared. I told her and began searching frantically. I looked everywhere.

A couple of minutes in, I began whispering Saint Anthony’s prayer:

Saint Anthony, (I have no clue how this part goes)
Something’s lost that must be

This is just the way know it. I have no clue if there’s more, or if I’m saying it wrong. And every time I say it, I change what’s in the parentheses. This time, I said:

Saint Anthony, my fear abound,
Something’s lost that must be

 It was awful. I was so scared, so worried. Erin said to me, “It’s okay, love, I’ll get a new one, I promise,” but that wasn’t all the way okay with me until I’d searched as hard as I absolutely could.

I pulled my lucky dime from my pocket and held it in both hands, pacing and looking and scanning.

Finally, I just hugged Erin and shook from the cold, and from being scared.

I held up my dime and stared at it. FDR looked, smiling, to the left.

I glanced to the left, and lodged in a small sand-and-rock bank was my ring, half-buried but visible.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful.

aestheism, not atheism.



Comments on: "Something’s Lost That Must Be Found (Thom’s Thoughts)" (2)

  1. Heather W. said:

    I read this last night… pretty late too, and I wanted to tell you that I think this is freaking awesome. haha this happens to me sometime too, but I must say that I do not say a specific prayer, I just kinda…. pray.

    P.S. you need to get a blog specific email or something because I find little things while rummaging around on the internet and think of you two.

    P.S.S. your Facebook link doesn’t work on my computer (i don’t have a Facebook so that might be it) but i wanted to let you know if that is an ACTUAL problem that happens on other computers too.

    Love always,
    Heather (giraffe)

    • Thanks Heather! We actually DO have a blog specific email…we just never ever check it. (: Maybe we should start. I did see the problem with the link a while ago…I just haven’t figured it out yet, but I’ll get on that.
      Thanks for reading as always. (:

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