THANKSGIVING WAS a cold, snowy affair this past November. I cleaned off my car several times that afternoon in order to see my way clearly to Chris and Lisa Leppek’s house. From there, they would transport me to our host’s residence in the Highlands.
As people made final preparations to depart, I was sitting on the couch when I felt something slip from my neck. It was the chain that held my hamsa — and the hamsa was gone.
I searched the floor and retraced my footsteps through the living room. Then I went to my car. Heavy snow covered the ground. If my hamsa was buried beneath those rising white mounds, I would never find it.