Many many years back, when our girls were still at junior school, my parents had been to Jerusalem on a tour (in safer days) and had brought back both girls a very intricate silver bracelet each. Packing for one of our earlier caravan holidays I noticed both girls wearing the bracelets and warned them they were likely to lose them as they were quite loose (to be grown into). However, they insisted on taking them.
On the first day, we had tears as the oldest had lost the bracelet, somewhere in the wood between the van and a Loch, a distance of about 40 feet, and a very steep bank down to the water. Two weeks later, packing to go home, it was a beauty of a night and the moon shining on a very still Loch, I went for a last longing look and stood at the top of the bank looking out. Suddenly, my feet went from under me and I shot down the bank bouncing and rolling, and landed, totally stunned and winded at the bottom. In between laughing and thinking what a prat I was alternately, I looked to my side and saw something glinting in the moonlight, and there was the bracelet. I truly believe the almighty wanted me to find it, but he could have been a tad more gentle.