Never before had plastic blue trinkets meant so much to a 12-year-old. I held them up in admiration as their turquoise facets shimmered in the sunlight. I had only had my ears pierced for a short time, and these were my first “big girl earrings”—they weren’t just studs. They dangled.
I was ecstatic. The best part was that the earrings were a gift from my mother, which made them much more special than any other jewelry I owned. I decided to wear them day and night and never take them off.
“Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!!” I hugged my mom fiercely and slipped the earrings on, pulling my hair back to admire them. They quickly became my favorite pair, and I stayed true to my self-made promise and wore them constantly. I only took them off before bed and before dance class (since earrings were forbidden there).
One evening I was running late for dance class. I rushed out of the bedroom into the bathroom to grab my hair tie as my mom called for me. As I turned to run out the door, I remembered I still had the earrings on. I yanked them out and threw them at the counter without bothering to look behind me as I ran out.
That night after dance class I was too exhausted to think of anything else. The next morning, however, I went to retrieve my earrings and was shocked to find only one on the counter. I searched every nook and corner of the room but found nothing. Then, since I am quite incapable of finding things, I asked my mom to come look. She, too, found only one.
I was stumped. Where could the other earring be? As I thought about it, my eyes grew wide with an unwelcome realization.
Our house was well built, but there were certain places that were not perfectly constructed. For instance, there were a few corners that did not have perfectly formed right angles. The counter in the spare bathroom was one. The corner between the counter and the wall had a tiny gap. My hand could not fit in it, but maybe a small earring could.
I ran and grabbed the flashlight and shone it down the crevice. To my chagrin, I was greeted by a familiar blue shimmer, way at the bottom.
I tried everything. A long piece of cardboard, a long stick, even string tied to a fork. Nothing was small enough to fit through the crevice and pull the earring back up. My best bet was with the stick, but it did not have a hook on the end to grab the earring, and try though I did, I could not pull it back up. After about half an hour of struggling, I sat back dejected.
“They were my favorite pair,” I told my mom glumly.
“Did you pray about it?”
I stared at my mom incredulously. “Pray about it?” I echoed stupidly.
My mother nodded. “If they mean that much to you, maybe you should ask God to help you be able to pull the other one back up. It’s easy for Him, you know.”
I blinked multiple times (my response in the face of surprising statements). “I don’t know,” I said dubiously. “It’s such a small thing. I don’t think He’d care.”
“You might be surprised. You can pray about anything,” my mom replied.
“Even that?” I was still doubtful. Why would God care if I lose an earring? I’m sure He has better things to do with His time. I pondered my mother’s advice after she left the room. Finally I decided that, at the very least, it couldn’t hurt. I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer. I told God that I knew it was relatively unimportant, but it mattered to me for sentimental reasons, and it would mean a lot if He could help me retrieve my favorite earring.
I opened my eyes and walked to the counter. I slid the stick down and over to the spot I knew the earring was, without even looking this time. To be honest, I was not expecting much.
I pulled the stick up and dropped it on the counter, still not even looking. To my shock, I heard a clattering sound. I looked up and my jaw dropped. My earring was sitting on the counter, a little dusty, but otherwise perfectly fine.
I could not believe that I had actually been able to retrieve my earring after praying about it. As I put the earrings on, I silently thanked God and went to tell my mom. And, sadly, I quickly forgot about my little miracle and went on through my day.
Over the years, however, that story has stuck with me. I realized at a young age that I could pray about even the smallest things, and God would hear me, just as 1 Peter 5:7 reads: “Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you.”
Getting my earring back after I prayed about it is the first answered prayer that I have a vivid memory of. I still think of it to this day, whenever those negative thoughts come creeping in: It’s no big deal; He wouldn’t want to hear about it. I’ll just handle it on my own. I can get by. Why get God involved with something so small? He has better things to do.
While it is true that recovering my earring was not essential, it was still something that I valued as a gift from my mom, and God knew that. He probably also knew that I did not have much faith, and chose a little miracle to help correct my attitude.
Many more “little miracles” have happened in my life since that time. There have been many answered prayers about seemingly little things that made a big difference in my life. And nearly every time, I am reminded of the little girl getting back her favorite earring.