Ring's odyssey shines as example of God's existence

Twenty-five years ago my sister was married in a beautiful ceremony in Founders Chapel at the University of San Diego. If you have never been there it is, perhaps, one of the most beautiful settings I have ever encountered for a wedding. The gilded altar is framed by hand-carved choir seats in deep mahogany stain, as were the pews.

The University of San Diego sits on a hill overlooking Mission Bay to the west. And to the south, one can see Point Loma and San Diego Bay. On a clear day there are few places in San Diego that can match its beauty.

On this particular day my sister wore her engagement ring, a beautiful solitaire with three small diamonds on each side. By the end of the ceremony that ring would be joined with the enduring symbol of marriage, a wedding band with six more small diamonds.

Twenty-five years have passed quickly. I was entering my freshman of college at the same university where the wedding took place. My sister and her husband embarked on their respective careers and had four beautiful children, all girls.

The marriage dissolved some years later, but the symbol of their love remained. As each of my sister's children reached the age of sixteen they were given three of the diamonds from the ring that symbolized the love that had created them. Each designed their own ring and each treasured the sentiment and significance of the gift and symbols.

Twenty-five years later, the youngest of my sister's daughters went on an excursion to Green Bay on Lake Pend Orielle. It is a remote area near Garfield Bay where locals go to find some quiet privacy. She was with a group of friends, celebrating the waning days of summer and their imminent departure for college and the world beyond Sandpoint.

Somewhere along the trek from the car to the campground the treasured ring slipped off of my niece's finger. It disappeared among the rocks and plant life along the trail. She would not notice the missing ring until the possibility of finding it was all but impossible. She returned home and lamented her loss.

My niece, Callie Fiedler, is a determined young woman. She could not let go of the significance of the ring and depth of the loss. Determined, she convinced my sister and her step-father to rent a metal detector and return to Green Bay to look for the ring.

In spite of the hopelessness of the adventure Bill and Cassie got in their boat, metal detector in tow, and set out for Green Bay. They arrived in choppy waters and almost headed home but Callie persisted.

They combed the beach and found the metal detector to be of little help, the rocks it seemed were made of gold. Watching this unfold, my sister and Bill were certain of the futility of the situation. The ring could be anywhere along a half mile trail or hundreds of feet of rocky beach. They were going home.

Heading for the boat my sister sat down on a driftwood log on the beach and prayed. "Please God, let Callie find her ring."

Callie was sliding down the path to the beach when she dug her hand into the rocky sand and as the contents sifted through her fingers, a flash of gold and diamonds, she had found her ring.

Three weeks had passed, three weeks of wind and rain and walkers-by and Callie found her ring on the whispered prayer of her mother to a God who, in this moment, was listening.

Miracles occur every day in the lives of those with eyes to see. Callie, my sister and her husband know very well the certainty of God's existence in the odyssey of a ring found among the rocks in Green Bay.

? Tim Durnin is a local realtor he can be reached by calling 208-946-7046 or by email at timd@century21.com.