‘Lost and Found’ is a story that has eclipsed most stories that have happened over the past 40 years. Milly the Quilter and Gloria remain #1, and I’d be hard pressed to tell a story that is more meaningful than this one.
It happened like this…
Well over ten years ago, I was sitting in a doctor’s office at a big hospital outside of Boston, UMass Memorial. While waiting, I looked at the art that was displayed on the walls. It was children’s art. It was beautiful. When the doctor came in, the first thing I asked him was why the hospital decided to hang children’s art. This is what he said:
“People who come to hospitals are worried and scared. Children’s art makes them smile and feel good.”
Lightbulb moment!
He was right, and I knew what I had to do. I contacted our local hospital and presented the idea of adorning their major hallway with children’s art. I told them about UMass Memorial. I pitched what the doctor told me.
They loved it. They wanted children’s art to hang in their main hallway.
All I had to do was present the art, framed and ready to hang. I spent most of the year collecting the ‘best’ art. It was a labor of love. Children were vested. Everyone was excited.
When the big day arrived, the press was there, along with children and families, the hospital president and chief nursing officer. We made the front page of the newspaper.

Years went by. Everyone loved the hallway art. Yes, it made patients feel good. Then one day it was gone. No one called me or let me know. The art was taken down and replaced with something that looked cold and stark. That was a terrible day.
I spent the next few years contacting people at the hospital. Everyone was sympathetic, yet no one knew what happened to the art. I had people at the hospital search the storage areas. I gave them pictures of the art to help in their search.
Nothing.
On the first day of school this year for teachers, our director called me out of the meeting. Some man had arrived with a box of art for me. Yes! The lost art had been found, and thank goodness my name was on the box so he could deliver it to school.
Did I scream and jump for joy? No. Did I cry and touch the art? Yes.
My next job was to contact families and children to get their art. To my great surprise, the children – now fifteen to seventeen years old – remembered their art. Really! They were thrilled.
Here are the ‘now teenagers’, and where they are in the newspaper photo:


Now and then.
The photo was included in the newspaper.
His owl art is top right.
She is the child on the far right.
She is third from the right.
He is the first child on the left.
The children keep coming to get their art. Honestly, I have no words. I think the pictures and art speak for themselves. Who knew teenagers would remember their art? My heart is full.
Jennie

































