Lost and Found

I lost my camera today. My sexy little red Olympus Stylus Verve that fits into the palm of your hand, and into a small-ish evening bag – which is why I’ve always mistrusted bags that can hold no more than a lipstick and loose change. The formality of a friend’s wedding this afternoon constrained me to trade in my usual capacious bag that can hold my wallet, makeup, cell phones, planner/writing notebook, and still have space enough for a small child. And, in the attempt to stuff the basic essentials – car keys, one phone, compact, wedding weeping tissue - into that silly little frou-frou accessory and to get whatever out when needed, I inevitably lost my camera, which had earlier managed to fit in so nicely.

What’s worse, I discovered that I’d lost it a good deal later, at the reception. We’d just gotten there after wading through rush hour Manila traffic, and hardly had I warmed my seat when I decided to take a photo of the beautiful skies above the breakwater, only to find - tadah – no camera. Because of the ruckus after the wedding and the distraction of chismis with friends while answering phone calls and trying to pay the parking lot attendant, not to mention the absentmindedness of old age, I had no clue where I’d put it. I took one photo right before the wedding actually started (goes to show how trigger happy I am, i.e., photo-lazy) and then got too busy trying not to smudge my mascara when Ets walked up the aisle and making the Tagalog scripture reading intelligible, to take any more. And so, when I finally got the inspiration to take a picture, I found I didn’t have anything to take it with.

So I turned my messy car upside down, thinking that I’d taken the camera out and dropped it somewhere. But the only thing I discovered was the urgent necessity to clean my car *surprise.* And thus I rushed back into the crawling chaos of Roxas Boulevard traffic, ruining my newly-repaired heels in the process, and scoured the Malate Church for my sexy Stylus Verve. No dice. And even if I had left it there…well, even in a church nothing is quite safe. There had to be some reason for all those signs warning parishioners not to leave belongings attended, as other people may think “it is the ‘answer’ to their prayers.” I turned my car upside down and rightside up again, interrogated the guards, and finally gave up the search. I’d lost my camera.

All this time I’d been praying to God and asking St. Anthony’s intercession. On the drive back, I even engaged in a little emotional “blackmail,” (a.k.a., lambing) reminding God that my camera was the only documentation device of He Cares, and if it remained lost, we’d no longer have anything to take photos with in the course of the mission. But all this time, I felt strangely calm, as if something in me believed that the camera wasn’t totally lost.

I got back to sympathetic friends, whose reactions ranged from “let’s keep praying to St. Anthony” to “may kapalit yan!” (from Jules, who once lost his – ouch – car). Oh well, I was starting to feel the loss now, rather gently. It was just a material thing, after all. And then a little more painfully, as other people started to take photos with their own cameras when I suddenly didn’t have one of my own. I started thinking about all the places I’d taken my sexy little camera, and how many people it had forever captured. How many other cameras it had put to shame, and how so many people had been so impressed at everything it could do and how cute it looked. And then I began to miss my sexy little red Olympus Stylus Verve, even if I hardly ever used it or maximized its potential or really loved it as much as others did.

Right there, I found out why I’d lost it. Truly, there is a reason for all things that happen in this world, and inasmuch as Romans 8:28 (look it up, won’t hurt to dig into Scripture once in a while) is one of the anchors of my life, there were at least three lessons that I learned from this tragic experience.

First, you’ll never know exactly how valuable something you have is, until you lose it. All of a sudden I appreciated what a great blessing my little digital camera was, despite the fact that I never really took good care of it (which is why I lost it in the first place!). And then you want it back, badly.

Second, the first lesson applies to life and relationships as well. Enough said.

Third, God and St. Anthony make one heavenly tag team! (Add my Lolo into the equation, I always ask him for his prayers in heaven whenever I lose something). In a last ditch effort, I took the opportunity to announce the tragic loss during the bouquet throw and appeal to whoever was holding my sweet sexy thang to return it, never expecting a response. But what do you know, at the end of the reception, one of the coordinators gave it back – apparently they’d found it before the wedding march, etc., etc. Praise God, thank St. Anthony! A friend of mine is suspicious of the timing, as they could have announced that they’d found a camera at the very start of the festivities and spared me the distress, but I’m thankful nonetheless. Whew.

And OK, one last realization from all these occurences: whenever you lose something of value and get it back, you really learn to appreciate it all the more. Indeed. My sexy little red Olympus Stylus Verve took a few more great photos before being returned to its roomy, spacious carrying case and zipped up, with my other dearest valuables, in my bigger day-to-day bag. No more frou-frou evening bags for it, thank you very much. And no more abuse or neglect. It has served me well, and boy, am I going to appreciate this little possession of mine properly this time around. This lesson applies to life and relationships as well.

Enough said.