The Prodigal Sock

It has returned!

The lost sock is back in its rightful place, rolled up with its mate, tucked in the second drawer from the top in my dresser.

I discovered it lurking in the hamper, tangled in a pair of jeans, evading detection. How it managed to escape me for so long, I cannot say. All I know is that it’s back where it belongs now.

I’ll admit that I was disappointed when the sock disappeared, but a part of me never lost hope that one day it would find its way home. Tossing away its mate would have indicated a finality that I wasn’t prepared to accept. So the remaining sock sat on top of my dresser—a small sign of faith—and together we waited.

Staying positive is not something I do naturally or well. Seeing those socks in my drawer each morning reminds me to adjust my outlook.

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