By Tom Quiner
“Where the heck is that lousy-stinkin’ chair?!”
The scene is the Quiner household on Thanksgiving evening. The mass of humanity that had filled our home on this day of sacred thanksgiving was slowly dwindling.
Twenty-three friends and family, along with two toddlers and one baby, had lit our home up with love. Our house isn’t large, so we were packed in.
Seating was an issue, so we borrowed four folding chairs from our neighbors across the street. As things wound down, my lovely wife gathered up the folding chairs. She could only find three of the ones she had borrowed.
She ripped the house apart looking for the missing chair.
Exasperated, she asked for my help. I ripped the house apart looking for the chair, but could not find it.
“Are you sure your borrowed FOUR chairs?” I asked somewhat accusingly?
Karen double-checked, and yes, we had borrowed four chairs indeed.
We searched the house again on Friday.
Again on Saturday.
It was as if someone had invented a Harry Potter type of invisibility cloak and thrown it over the chair.
I read a news report this morning that scientists are, in fact, very near to perfecting such technology. [I’m convinced they are testing this novel invention in my house.]
By Sunday, our embarrassment at the thought of losing our neighbor’s folding chair had become acute. I lamented our situation to my sister-in-law who was in town for the Thanksgiving holiday. We commiserated over various things we had lost over the years.
At that point, I declared:
“You know, we ARE Catholics. St. Anthony, you are the patron saint of lost articles. Can you help us find that lousy-stinkin’ folding chair?!”
My sister-in-law piped in:
“You know, Tom, my late mother has interceded on my behalf on many occasions when I’ve been looking for lost articles.”
In desperation, I asked what her mother’s name was.
Looking toward heaven, I said,
“Okay, Myrna, you don’t know me, but I am your daughter’s brother-in-law. I could use some help here. Could you join forces with St. Anthony to help us find our neighbor’s folding chair?”
With that, my sister -in-law walked from my kitchen to the dining room and said, “is this it?”
There it was.
We had walked past it a dozen times without seeing it.
We had eaten several meals with the chair leaning up against the wall just a few feet away, again without seeing it.
I am truly a believer in invisibility cloaks!
Thank-you St. Anthony and Myrna for your assistance in helping us see what was right under our nose.