The Sad Bear

January 29, 2009

Lost things

Wallets and keys and toys, coins, tools, and most recently a camera; faith is the sum of lost things. At least for me. At least right now.

This started when I turned ten, because when I was nine my dad gave me a token for a free ice-cream sundae. Then a year passed, the token did too, through all areas of my house. Under books and blankets and papers; on shelves, night-tables, desks. It was a Saturday afternoon that did it. My grandmother was babysitting, and my dad was leaving for work.

"You need to find that token," he said. "You had better find it before I get home."

So I looked. And I was frantic for more than two hours. Then my grandmother mentioned Saint Anthony, and how he helps you find things if you just tick a little rhyme to him.

She said, "Here's how it goes: 'Dear St. Anthony come around, something's lost and can't be found.'"

And I stared at her, just for a minute, still a little empty inside. Then recited the lines anyway. I recited those lines in the kitchen.

"Dear St. Anthony come around, something's lost and can't be found."

I stood up, leaned on the refrigerator. I clasped the top to keep a grip, but when my hand felt the edge of the machine, it also felt the token.

Ever since then I've found lots of stuff, presumably because I resort to recitation. Sometimes I hold out for as long as I can...but when the situation gets intense, I always fold.

I'm not a religious person. I'm still pretty apathetic when it comes to it. Even today when I resort to those grandmother-given lines, I recite them with increased sacrilege.

"Anthony. I need this fucking camera. I know this isn't how I'm supposed to ask, but I really don't give a shit about niceties right now."

Eight hours later: Case closed.

I don't think I ever got that ice-cream sundae.

Labels: apathy, catholicism, religion, saints

by Chase at 2:08 AM |