One night, I woke up feeling something brush against my foot. When I reached down, I found a tiny silver angel charm. Confused but curious, I slipped it into my wallet, thinking of it as a small token of luck.
Over the years, that charm quietly stayed with me through college exams, job interviews, heartbreaks, and new beginnings. Whenever life felt uncertain, carrying it brought a strange sense of calm, like I wasn’t facing things alone.
Twelve years later, at my company’s annual corporate party, I met a new employee named Emily. As we talked, I set my wallet on the table. The moment she noticed it, her face went pale.
“You have it,” she whispered.
I opened my wallet and showed her the angel charm. Her hands trembled as she explained that it had once belonged to her younger brother. When they were children, he’d given it to her for protection. During a violent storm years ago, it disappeared.
“He used to say whoever found it would be important in my life,” she said softly.
That night, we talked for hours, sharing stories that felt oddly connected. Our friendship slowly turned into love.
Years later, on our wedding day, Emily slipped the angel back into my pocket and smiled. “It was never lost,” she said. “It was just waiting.”
That tiny silver angel wasn’t just a lucky charm anymore—it became proof that some stories begin long before we realize we’re living them.
