I was working the 3-to-11 shift at Miners Hospital in Spangler, Pennsylvania, when a patient I was feeding asked, “Why don’t you have a little pin on like the other nurses?”
“I do,” I said, reaching to show him the golden, wreath-shaped R.N. pin on my collar—one of my proudest possessions. It had been given to me when I graduated from nursing school in Altoona, and it stood for years of hard work and study. But now, when I looked down, the pin was gone.
I knew I had pinned it to my uniform just before I left the house. I looked everywhere for it. A colleague and I searched through all the linens and bedside equipment but found nothing. I even took a mop and dusted under the beds. At home I turned the place upside down. No pin. Of course I could replace it, but a substitute would never mean as much. That night, as I lay in bed, I prayed that the Lord would help me find it.
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