“Saint Anthony Saint Anthony, Something has been lost and it must be found!”
in Pura Vida
By: Liz Pond
Posted: July 7, 2025
We woke up in paradise feeling the Costa Rican sun on our shoulders and the cool ocean breeze teasing our dry Arizona skin. The humidity hung heavy in the air, but I could breathe deeper, filling my lungs with fresh coastal air and tasting the salt on my lips. It was peaceful with the lapping waves and the distant sound of laughter. I felt lighter, the weight of the world melting away and pura vida (1) seeping into my soul. My 19 year old daughter takes a little more time to settle into travel, but we were both well rested and today was a lazy resort day. No tours or buses. Our goal was to relax by the pool, enjoy the ocean and take advantage of the all-inclusive food and amenities.
We walked past an iguana the size of a dog and laughed at the loud squawking birds who clearly wanted to be noticed with their intrusive cackling and kaleidoscope of color. We made our way into the labyrinth of connecting turquoise pools full of tourists with umbrella drinks and sun kissed skin. We found a cozy enclave far enough away from the swim up bar to avoid chaos, but close enough to get beverages. I gazed at my daughter's beautiful mermaid long blond curly hair, sparkling blue eyes and authentic smile. This smile was nothing like the posed smile you see on social media. It was a genuine full teeth smile that accompanied moments of true happiness and freedom from life’s worries and judgement. I was overjoyed that she decided to come with me on this adventure. My daughter looks nothing like me, but she is all mine and rocking those recessive genes today. “Ahh to be young!” I thought to myself.
A photographer came by to capture our pura vida for purchase. Friendly tourists from around the globe left a trail of foam as they swam by toasting to pura vida and waving Mardi Gras style. We swam and lounged enjoying the pura vida that is all things Costa Rica. It was becoming clear why this phrase was plastered on billboards and T-shirts. It's described as, “Costa Rica’s unofficial national slogan, meaning pure life, and symbolizing the simple, cheerful outlook and lifestyle of what is often called the happiest country in the world.”
The phrase pura vida means “thank you”, “your welcome,” “that’s great” or “life is good.” It could also mean ‘no worries” in the context of a response when someone bumps into you accidentally. Think of a relaxed “hakuna matata”. (2) The versatility of the phrase is part of its appeal, and it's a 100% positive expression of pleasure in a life lived to the fullest.
Pura vida is a spirit, a vibe and an attitude. We felt the pura vida electricity all around us as we found a fancy drink with an umbrella of our own. We cheered on the procession of lazy river tourists swaying to the festive resort beat and slid happily into the rhythm of experiencing the good life.
When the crowd subsided, I talked with my daughter about the logistics of the next day's whirlwind 16 hour tour to Nicaragua which would be my 100th country to visit! I was over the top excited, and just a little weary about crossing the border even with the protection of a well known reputable tour company. In his relaxed pura vida style the representative of the on-site resort excursion company told me not to worry, because they do this trip three times a week.
When I asked more about the border process he assured me that, “if the border guards need bribing, my local guides will handle all of that while you wait on the bus.” This was far from comforting, but his delivery was cheerful and upbeat and saturated in pura vida. He concluded, “Tourism is good for the economy and the group will be large given the timing before the Easter Holiday.” Safety in numbers I suppose.
A sliver of my previous pura vida self was uneasy about my daughter coming along. She was smart, well traveled, and as stubborn as her mom so there was no chance she was staying behind. I found out later she wanted to make sure that I got home safely and in time for Easter. She is an outstanding, trusted travel companion, but when did those roles reverse? The quote, “I am a strong woman because a strong woman raised me comes to mind.” (author unknown).
Similar to many other Latin countries, Easter is serious business in Costa Rica. The beach close to our resort was expected to be packed, and tourist trips to Nicaragua would be temporarily canceled because of crowded holiday border crossings. The week leading up to Easter Sunday is called Semana Santa or Holy Week. Schools are closed, people desert the city and travel with family. The Procession of the Last Super takes place on the Thursday prior, which is followed by elaborate Good Friday events. “It is not unusual to see beaches absolutely filled with large family groups. People bring tents and set up temporary homes for the week.
Costa Rica is a predominantly Catholic country and the days leading up to Easter are often a time for reflection and ceremonies. (3) We planned to be back in the states for the holiday to avoid crowds and be with our family. However, someday I would like to experience Easter in Costa Rica.
As we started to get out of the pool to find lunch I heard a desperate cry from my otherwise confident teen. I turned and was actually frightened because all the blood seemed to have drained from her face leaving her rosy cheeks pale. She was clearly holding back tears. My anxious mama bear mind raced through possibilities. An insect bite? Tragic news she read on her phone? Sun stroke? As my mind wandered off into endless terrifying scenarios she held up her hand and pointed to her finger, “It’s gone!” she exclaimed, wiping those unwanted tears that burst through her dam of composure. She was still desperately trying not to draw attention to herself. “My ring, your comedy/tradgedy theater ring that you gave me years ago. The one I never take off. It's gone! I lost the ring!” she said with a quiver in her voice.
I processed what she said and kicked into problem solving mode looking everywhere we had been. She said “Mom you're not mad?” Perhaps she was thinking about my unsolicited, annoying maternal advice I dole out before each trip, which is to leave anything that is valuable to you at home. No use in bringing that up now. The truth is she was mad and sad enough for both of us. So light in spirit, I set out to enlist a small army of tourists in our hunt to up the odds of ring recapture.
My daughter and I are very different. When crisis strikes I am a “gather the troops” kind of girl. Let's all pitch in and work together. I had no problem recruiting the majority of people in our area. I asked the worker in goggles who was scrubbing the sides of the pool, the photographer, and even the bartender. The ring could have been turned into an employee at the bar. My daughter would rather search diligently in solitude with subdued voices or communicating only with our eyes.
This poor girl got me as a mom and I had already very publicly built a search and rescue team for the missing ring. Despite our differences, theater is something we have always shared. The ring was heavy with sentimental value and its loss pulled at an invisible thread that connected us to each other.
A wonderful woman who had joined in the ring hunt jumped out of the congo line of bobbing heads to ask us a question. This friendly traveler looked at us in earnest and said, “Have you asked Saint Anthony?” with a confident head nod she continued, “It always works!”
My face gave me away. I clearly needed a Saint Anthony refresher despite my father being raised Catholic and telling me the story. She continued, “You say, ‘Saint Anthony, Saint Anthony something has been lost and it must be found!’ And the lost thing turns up eventually.” We instinctively surveyed the pool and the stampede of feet swirling water in every direction. The helpers were following the pool currents farther away and slowly giving up the hunt with shrugs, waves, and crossed fingers raised in the air in hopes of a better outcome. We were desperate.
I asked Saint Anthony out loud with an impromptu upward wave of my hands. I almost expected the ring to pop above the water hovering for retrieval, but nothing happened. Then the nice mom who explained the legend of Saint Anthony and understood what was at stake asked Saint Anthony. We waited in anticipation. A cheer from the bar had us hopeful, but we soon discovered that it was unrelated to our ring. Although someone did get engaged. Even my daughter, who would probably rather hide under a rock, was driven by desperation to publicly ask Saint Anthony. I wanted so much at that moment for the ring to magically find us that I thought perhaps my daughter would step on it, yelping and plucking the lost item from the floor of the pool. No ring was found. This was devastating, but our new friend warned us with a cheerful mom smile, not to give up hope. I gazed across the vast pool with crowds of people and twice the feet churning the water into a foam. She clearly had a deep faith in Saint Anthony.
It felt like the sun went behind a cloud and the magic of the day was dissipating. Hints of our busy plugged in lives were seeping into my soul. I gave myself grace. I had a lifetime of Catholic and Jewish guilt to release before I could fully transition to Costa Rican pura vida. After lunch while gazing out at the beach trying to get that pura vida back I researched Saint Anthony. The story goes, in 1224 Saint Francis asked Anthony to teach theology to the Friars and was given the cherished psalter (book of psalms). When it was stolen by a young novice who wanted to leave the order,St Anthony prayed for its return. The young man had a sudden change of heart and returned the book and to the vocation. This is where St. Anthony gained his reputation as our finder of lost items (4).
We made the best of our remaining holiday, but the sadness of the lost ring kept sneaking back into conversation. We had our jam-packed adventurous day in Nicaragua and thankfully returned safely to Costa Rica. We watched mama and baby sloths, saw monkeys swing from vines, made chocolate from scratch and drank amazing local coffee. It was overall a magical holiday! We realized it's the stories and memories we share that create this one-of-a-kind tapestry of our collective interest and mother-daughter love. The ring is just a symbol of our shared experience and no one can take that away.
Four nights later, on our last night at the resort, a full moon made a nice night for a walk. Noticing my daughter’s tan line on her finger where there was once an inexpensive but cherished ring, I suggested we take a stroll to the pool and ask Saint Anthony one last time under the light of the miraculous moon for his help. My daughter rolled her eyes at me and said,” let it go mom.” She was sure someone had picked the ring up and kept it as a souvenir. We had already tried the lost and found with no luck. Nevertheless, off we went in our elegant dresses to look in the pool which was now closed to the inhabitants of the resort.
It was a beautiful night with a soft breeze and private symphony of crashing waves mixed with distant resort music and the occasional croak of a frog. I hoped that this feather light wind would rise with the music and carry our message out over the jungle, past the volcano and up to Saint Anthony himself.
We recited, “Saint Anthony Saint Anthony, something has been lost and must be found”. I noticed in the silence that followed that I was holding my breath. We hovered over the spot that previously occupied most of our time at the pool. This is where we had diligently covered every inch with eyes and hands a few days back. Perhaps the moonlight shifted. Or, a cloud passed through the dark, moody sky exposing the bright stars burning from beyond. It was hard to say, but a small stream of light bounced off something and it sparkled! The shiny object was wedged in the jet that brings water to the pool on the bench in our cove. My heart skipped a beat. I believed with the strength of a child in Santa Claus on Christmas morning that Saint Anthony had found our missing heirloom.
“It's probably not it," said my daughter, in an effort to curb her own enthusiasm and not get her hopes up only to be crushed again. My daughter had been lost in her own head since the ring went missing. She did not dwell on it, but there was an unshakable sadness covering our adventure with a thick grey blanket that blocked out my daughter's light the last few days. She bent over and fished out that thing that glimmered at us from the pool. We stared in equal parts amazement and disbelief as she held up the silver theater ring with the comedy and tragedy masks! I looked at the sky and the trees and thanked Saint Anthony with a little too much enthusiasm. My daughter didn't seem to mind my loudness this time. That authentic smile was back and this time they were tears of joy! The blanket was lifted, releasing that pura vida and immediately igniting a lightness of spirit to our traveler hearts.
Now full believers in both Saint Anthony and pura vida, we walked back noticing that the atmosphere around us had changed. Or maybe our joy changed the atmosphere. Heads turned and watched my daughter as she walked fully confident, a bounce in her step and a full real, radiant smile. There was so much positive energy flowing from my daughter and that ring that it was contagious. People were drawn to that light and energy. I am not sure where the mysterious talents of Saint Anthony stop and the power of positive thinking and perseverance start. I don't need to know. All that matters is the ring has been found and we are traveling light once again.
1. Source https://www.specialplacesofcostarica.com/blog/the-culture-of-costa-rica/, "The Culture of Costa Rica", Karl Kahler, 09/11/20
2. Source https://www.ticolingo.com/blog/what-is-pura-vida/, "What is Pura Vida?", Emily Maulding
3. Source https://www.costaricavibes.com/easter-in-costa-rica/ "Easter in Costa Rica: What to Expect When Traveling". Sara McArthur, 1/27/25
4. Source https://www.catholic.com/qa/why-is-st-anthony-of-padua-invoked-for-the-finding-of-lost-items, "Why is Saint Anthony of Padua Invoked for Finding Lost Items?"
