lost things – The Countryman's Daughter

Who’s going to watch over us?

Dad signing books in the garden wearing his silver watch

Dad having a cuppa a few years later wearing his smart gold watch

Following my story a couple of weeks ago about some friends who were reunited with lost possessions, Michael Brown from Stokesley got in touch with his own tale. If you recall, one friend, Aisling, thought her diamond wedding earrings had been stolen, only to have them given back to her 10 years later after they’d been found in an old jacket pocket. Another friend, Stefan, was reunited with his smart suit jacket after it had been accidentally donated to the school fair and sold for 50p. Stefan bumped into the new owner wearing it on the street who sold it back to him for 50p.

Michael’s story centres around a Christmas party for members of the National Federation of Retail Newsagents. As District President, Michael was invited to the Newcastle branch’s party in Ponteland one year. He’d been planning to drive back home afterwards but was worn out after a long and tiring journey and on top of that, the weather was awful. Having learned that the pub did not have accommodation, the evening’s host, Richard, offered him a room in his home for the night.

Richard and his wife Karen were very warm hosts and provided Michael with most of what he needed for the night, including a dressing gown.

Michael explains: “The next morning, I slipped on the dressing gown and discovered a watch in the pocket. Reaching the kitchen, I presented my find to Karen. She was overjoyed. Although not hugely valuable, the watch held a lot of sentimental value as it was her grandmother’s and had been missing for quite some time.”

Whenever Michael sees Richard and Karen now, they reminisce about the occasion and Karen’s unexpected reunion with her grandmother’s long lost watch. “That evening has created a special bond between us,” says Michael.

What a lovely tale, with serendipity playing a vital part, as it so often does in stories like this. So many variables had to slot into place to enable Stefan to get his jacket back, for Aisling to recover her earrings and for Michael to discover Karen’s watch. She may never have otherwise found it had she not offered the dressing gown to Michael on his impromptu stopover. Perhaps from above, Grandmother had been influencing the way all the chips fell so that her watch and her granddaughter could be happily reunited.

It makes me wonder how many people still wear watches? I haven’t had one for years and have not missed it because there are so many clocks surrounding me, on my phone, in the car, on household appliances. Having a clock hanging on the kitchen wall that the whole family rely on is no longer necessary thanks to the electronic gadgets at our fingertips.

There’s a fair few of us who will have watches that have been passed down through the generations though. My dad used to wear his own dad’s timepiece, although in later life, a smart gold one replaced it.

A couple of weeks ago, I asked you which is the one item you’d save from a fire and wondered if you’d be practical – like a passport; or valuable – like jewellery; or sentimental – like photos. If I had to choose one of the two watches I mentioned above I’d probably save my dad’s rather than Grandad’s because I remember him wearing it with much pride and therefore has more sentimental value to me. It is a hard choice, though, and I have no doubt that I wouldn’t get rid of either unless I really had to.

Harbouring of items of sentimental value is the reason I have a garage that is still full of boxes I have not unpacked; boxes that contain a load of stuff I cannot bring myself to throw away and yet cannot face sorting out either. How does one make the decision to throw away hundreds of letters sent between myself and my best friend, or my parents, or my siblings? They become even harder to let go once the writer has passed away. But they are in a box, and unlikely to be read by anyone except me, and only now and then. What the heck do I do with them?

It makes me ask again, what you might save from a fire if you had to choose but one item?

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 21st March and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 19th March 2025

Praying for a Tony award

A painting from the chapel of Pius V Santi Giovanni e Paolo (Venice) by Joseph Heintz the Younger depicting the miracle of St Anthony of Padua and the Mule. Credit: Didier Descouens – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=62705004

My column last week about lost precious things made me think about the non-practical methods we employ to try and find them again. Having been brought up a Catholic, I was taught that there was a saint to pray to for almost every problem in life, and it was to St Anthony that you had to turn if you lost something.

I remember as a youngster praying to him when I had mislaid an important item, but unfortunately cannot recall if my prayers were ever answered or not. Traditionally, you were supposed to recite an old couplet that went:

“Tony, Tony, turn around, something’s lost and must be found.”

There is another, perhaps more reverent rhyme written by Julian of Spires, a German Franciscan monk and contemporary of St Anthony who was particularly known for being a gifted writer and musical composer noted for his ‘rhyming offices’, prayers, that are said or sung. He wrote this one about St Anthony in 1241, about 10 years after the saint’s death.

“The sea obeys, the fetters break, and lifeless limbs thou dost restore,

while treasures lost are found again, when young and old thy aid implore.”

St Anthony is known as either Anthony of Lisbon, the Portuguese capital where he was born on 15th August 1195, or Anthony of Padua, the northern Italian town where he spent much of his later life. He planned to travel extensively to preach and hoped to become a missionary, but his recurring poor health curtailed his ambitions. He ended up in Padua and became one of St Francis of Assisi’s most famous followers. He founded a Franciscan community and became known as a champion of the poor and as a gifted preacher celebrated for his simple yet compelling delivery. St Anthony died battling poor health on a return journey to Padua on 13th June 1231 (now his saint’s day).

He earned a reputation for performing miracles, including reviving several people after they had been confirmed dead, reattaching severed limbs simply by praying and holding them in place, getting a newborn baby to declare out loud who his real father was after said father had accused his wife of cheating, and other miraculous achievements involving people with a whole plethora of illnesses and disabilities. He was also said to induce wild animals to behave in surprisingly sophisticated ways when in his holy presence. As the patron saint of lost things such as possessions, people and even faith, he is also credited with many miracles that recovered seemingly unrecoverable losses.

Thanks to his miraculous reputation, he was canonised less a year after his death on 30th May 1232 by Pope Gregory IX, and considering he was not yet 36 when he died, he must have been a remarkably charismatic and impressive man. In January 1946, Pope Pius XII named him ‘doctor of the church’ which in Roman Catholicism indicates his theological writings are considered particularly important.

The original reason he became patron of lost things is thanks to a story that involves a novice monk who stole Anthony’s book of psalms in which had written personal notes he used for his sermons and teachings. The novice took the book, then deserted the Paduan Franciscan community. Anthony prayed fervently for the return of his book and for the novice to return to the faith. His payers were answered, and the repentant novice came back, forgiven and welcomed once again by the community.

There are websites that celebrate St Anthony, and they encourage the faithful to submit their success stories of having found lost stuff after praying to the saint. Some could be just good luck, while others are much harder to explain. One story involves a teacher who lost an earring. She scoured her classroom including looking under her desk and chair. Just as she gave up, the cleaner arrived with his dust mop, and she explained the situation, asking him to look out for it. That night she said her prayers to Saint Anthony and the next morning, there was the earring lying under her chair in the same place she had looked the night before. She asked if the cleaner had for some reason placed it there, but he said he had not found it, despite looking out for it.

So how did it get there?

I’d love to hear from you about your stories, memories, opinions and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 2nd Aug and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 31st July 2024.

All is not lost. Or is it?

I have a collection of single earrings thanks to having lost their partners. But what do I do with them?

My story about wedding rings a few weeks ago sparked a few comments about ‘lost precious things’. If you recall, I told the tale of my mum nearly losing a diamond ring on Christmas Day, the same day dad had given it to her. Luckily, we found it in the kitchen bin before someone had chance to empty it.

Lynette Brammah got in touch to tell me her story: “I stupidly put my precious gold Chanel earrings in before going into the pool in France when the girls were young. I stripped off, swam and when I got out realised one was missing. I was gutted. The girls looked for hours with their goggles on to find it in the pool but to no avail. Years later, I was packing for my holidays and there, in my denim shorts pocket, was the earring!”

Lynette hadn’t removed the earring but believes it had come out when she was pulling her T-shirt over her head and had miraculously found its way into her pocket. “I thought I’d kept the one on its own so got very excited when I found it, but then I couldn’t find the one I kept. They were never reunited.”

Clare Powell says: “When I got my second Borzoi, Iygor, I was walking him on York Racecourse when he was a puppy. Stupidly I wore my favourite silver earrings that were a present from my husband. Of course I lost one. But, for the next eight years, until Iygor died, I would look for that earring every morning on the racecourse as I walked him. Not surprisingly, I never found it! I have since bought two similar pairs, but they were never as good as the originals, and I barely wear them.”

Have you noticed that the word ‘stupidly’ is featured in both these stories? It is usually because we recognise that we have done something daft when such mishaps occur and therefore only have ourselves to blame. Although one could argue that an earring falling out is not necessarily the wearer’s fault.

Clare had a second story: “A friend of mine had a heavy gold elephant charm on a bangle…One day she was visiting a friend and she lost the elephant…she hunted the house, dug around in rubbish and backs of chairs and sofas, but did not find it. She was brokenhearted as it meant a lot to her. Then, about five years later, her friend was getting rid of her sofa, and as they turned it on its side to get it out of the house, out dropped the gold elephant. They were finally, happily, reunited.”

One of my most regretful losses was one of a pair of diamond earrings which I wore every day. I like to use my favourite stuff rather than keep it for best because I feel it is a shame to keep beautiful things hidden away. I accept that there is a risk that they could get lost or broken, but the hours of joy they bring to me make up for it.

When I first lost it, of course I looked high and low, retraced my steps and shook out all of my clothes, but more than ten years later, it still has not turned up. However, I cannot bring myself to get rid of its lone partner. How can anyone throw a diamond earring in the bin, even if they are never going to wear it again?

In fact I have a stash of single earrings languishing in my jewellery box, none of which match, so they will never get worn. But what can I do with them? I know people these days often have several piercings in their ears in which they wear single earrings, and there are certain jewellery websites that sell lone earrings, so I could perhaps try and find some that match. I have tried to find a partner for the only one I really care about, which is the diamond one, but have never found one that looks the same. Obviously I can’t sell it because it is for pierced ears and I have worn it. Therefore, it looks like it, and the rest of my singles collection, will sit for evermore, unworn and unappreciated.

Unless you have any bright ideas?

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 26th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 24th July 2024.

Running round in rings

Have you ever lost a precious ring? And did you find it again?

I’ve had some interesting comments about wedding rings. Janet Pearce, who used to be a theatre nurse, informed me of something I did not know: “A wedding ring is the only piece of jewellery that you can keep on when you have a general anaesthetic…Also the surgeon and operating team can keep theirs on.”

That surprised me because I would have expected in our super hygiene and infection-conscious world that all jewellery would have to be removed. But Janet pointed out that a patient doesn’t need to be sterile and the wedding band is taped over to stop the heat from any cauterisation burning them. “When the surgeon and scrub nurses scrub up they do a very rigorous hand clean, moving the ring about, and they wear gloves, so no risk of infection.” She added: “I have never removed mine since my late husband placed it there and never will.”

After Henry VIII’s Reformation it was decreed in England that wedding rings must be worn on the third finger of the left hand. If you were found to be wearing one on the right, as had been the custom before (and still was in many European countries), then you were at risk of being declared a Catholic and executed.

Lucien Smith said: “Fascinating about the rings. I was well aware that certain countries favour wearing a ring on the right…but not that it was a religious identifier…We had our rings made in Brighton, but as my husband-to-be took a strong disliking to the lady in the shop (he still won’t tell me why!) I don’t attach any real romance to them. Which is just as well, as we have each lost our rings for either 10 mins in a nightclub bathroom (me!), or a number of weeks in a drawer (him!).”

The tradition of wearing wedding bands dates back to Egyptian times and it used to be thought that there was a specific vein known as the ‘vena amoris’ that passed from the third finger of the right hand straight to the heart, and therefore should be the one that bore the ring. But it turns out there is no such vein.

Clare Powell, who suggested the idea for the column, said: “Thank you for the research. I had heard about the link to the heart but always wondered why the Dutch wore theirs on the right hand (years ago I worked with a girl from Amsterdam who did this). Might have known Henry VIII and the Reformation had something to do with it!”

And Caroline Newnham says: “I’ve heard this about the heart connection though as Clare says, most Europeans wear wedding rings on the right so it makes no sense.”

I’d like to know if you have a special story about your wedding ring, or any precious ring. Do your ever take it off? Have you ever lost it? And if so, how did you break the news to your other half?

I hope my mum won’t mind me sharing the following story with you. My dad bought her a beautiful ring set with diamonds and sapphires for Christmas in 2016. We had a wonderful day with the whole family, and as we were clearing up after lunch, my mum came rushing into the kitchen with a very worried look on her face. The ring was no longer on her finger.

While Dad and my sons sat chatting, myself, Mum, sisters, and nieces all surreptitiously tore the house apart looking for the ring. We pulled ripped wrapping paper from bin bags, ferreted down the sides of sofas and chairs, checked beneath carpets, tables and cupboards, looked in bathrooms, bedrooms, and all over the kitchen, all the while trying not to look like we were looking for anything. All seemed lost, until seconds before someone was about to empty it, we realised no-one had checked inside the kitchen bin.

It was stuffed full of the remains of our Christmas dinner and I can’t remember who had the delightful job of searching, but there, nestled amongst the yucky debris, was Mum’s precious ring. I don’t think I have ever seen a look of such relief on anyone’s face as that of my mum when we found it.

And my dad, who had spent a small fortune on it, was never any the wiser.

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 5th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 3rd June 2024.