Lost and found

You lost a sacred thing of long ago; but one night, you had a dream. You saw a white something.

Was it a cloud — or a smoke? No human form, it was. And yet, it spoke and it gave something back to you. 

“Friends again?” it said as it returned the thing you lost, the thing that is yours — the rosary of old. And you awoke. 

Was it the Lady — or the Virgin? The “white something” was more of a soul, the soul of somebody who took the thing from you — the mother of mine. 

The rosary? The father of mine. The marriage of yours. 

Many times had you gone to look for it; but many times had you failed. And when you learned to let go, only then that it found you. 

(To stepmother)