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Fate, Luck, and Fiction at the Boston Marathon

As I was getting dressed on Monday morning to cheer my brother and the other runners at the finish line of the 117th Boston Marathon, I decided to wear my good luck ring.

I pulled the simple, thin, platinum band that I hadn't worn in several years, out of the drawer and put it on. It felt small--tighter than it had almost 25 years ago on our wedding day--when it was blessed by the rabbi and he had spoken of our future. "Health and Happiness," he'd said very seriously as he looked into our eyes. "Long life to you."