July 16, 2010- Hotel Angels

I met two angels this morning in a hotel in Michigan. Darci and Jessica, you are my new personal heroes in service and helpfulness and all-round good personhood.

You see, I left my wedding ring behind in my hotel room this morning. I had taken it off while putting on skin lotion. I didn't notice until my travelling companions and I were gassing up about 10 minutes' drive away, and just about to get on the freeway. Never yet in my life have I had such a sinking feeling of panic and gut-wrenching sickness. Yes, it's just a ring, no jewels in it, plain gold and not even an inscription. But still...it's a symbol of the magic I somehow got lucky enough to share. Frankly, I didn't know how much it meant to me until I thought I'd lost it. I desperately, fervently, shakingly wanted it back. If it were in the sewer, I would have dived in to get it. (well, a clean, dry sewer, anyway....)

Darci got it the minute she saw my face. " IjustcheckedoutafewminutesagoandIthinkIleftmy weddingringinmyroom." was one breath and before I was done, she had a key card in her hand and was asking my room number. I did not refrain from running down the hall once the Slowest Elevator in the World had reached my floor.

I nearly had a heart attack when I saw the cleaners had already been at work in my room.

The sheets were gone. My ring was not on the bed. My ring was not on the bedside table. Or the floor under the bed. Or the floor near the sink. Or the floor under the desk. Or the floor in the bathroom. Or in the tub. Or the sink. Or the closet I hadn't even opened. Not in the fridge. Or the microwave. Or under the cushions of the couch. Or the cushions of the chair. Or the cushions of the other chair. Or the floor beside the bed. Or the floor on the other side of the bed. Or any of the aforementioned places when I checked the second time, trying to choke back tears.

The workers' cart in the hall was not the one that had collected my sheets. The workers in the hall were not the workers who had collected my sheets, but they could direct me to the person who had. One of them accompanied me to the lobby, handed me off to another worker, who knew where the girl was who had taken my sheets. She, too, took one look at my face and said in her nasal Michigan drawl, "Honey, I'll see what we can do, come with me." She didn't stop moving until she tipped over the enormous basket of the sheets and wet, dirty towels she had collected and which were waiting for the washing machines in the back room. Together, Darci, Jessica and I sifted quickly through the spilled linens, and we weren't having any luck when Jessica left to go to a second bin. Darci and I were at the bottom of the first bin when Jessica stood next to me, my wee ring on her index finger, "Is this it?" My knees buckled and my arms were around her neck in a nanosecond. It's actually lucky I didn't knock the ring off her hand in my enthusiasm to hug and thank her.

There was no question these two women were going to help a woman in distress. No questions about whether I had checked my luggage, no musings about how stupid a person has to be to lose their wedding ring. Just help. Simple, kind, willing help for a stranger and a guest. I won't forget it, and I will pass it on.