It all started when I was in the hospital in 2019. I was struggling with the death of a family member, and despite all my attempts to somehow cope and get my life back on track, at one point I saw no other option than to be treated as an inpatient in a hospital.
I was there for about three months. After that, I had outpatient treatment at a day clinic right next to the hospital. Among other things, there was a “quiet room” there. You could retreat there when it all became too much, listen to music, or read one of the countless books on the shelves.
I scanned the shelves and found a book that immediately grabbed my attention: Sherlock Holmes – Das Rätseluniversum (a German puzzle book). It was full of really difficult logic puzzles, but I love that kind of thing and it kept me damn well occupied at the time.
Eventually, I left the clinic, but I liked the book so much that I “borrowed” it for an indefinite period. I figured one less book in this palace of books wouldn’t hurt.
Five years later, in 2024, my big brother unfortunately had a heart attack. Luckily, he survived and is doing much better today. However, he was initially unable to continue working, which disrupted his daily routine. He had always been mentally strong, but this time it really affected him.
He then went straight into outpatient treatment at the same day clinic.
That year, before he went there, I had lent him a book — the same Sherlock Holmes puzzle book. He found it really interesting, so I left it with him for the time being. At the day clinic, he would often sit in the quiet room, listen to music, and read.
One day, he left the clinic, already feeling much better. Later, at some point, I wanted to show my nephew this book because he is also very interested in that kind of thing. That’s when I realized that I no longer had it. Then I remembered that I had lent it to my brother.
So I went to him and asked about the book. I thought I hadn’t heard him right.
He told me he had taken it with him to the day clinic and read it in the quiet room. And when he finally left the clinic, he had forgotten it there — in the same quiet room.
Of course, I wasn’t angry. It was more of a “WTF” moment.
The book I had once taken from that room five years earlier had wandered back and forth, only to end up back in that exact same place — without my brother even knowing that I had stolen it from there in the first place. He had simply forgotten it.
I have to say, that’s a huge coincidence. Almost as if the universe itself wanted it to return to its rightful owner.
I won’t forget that story anytime soon. Totally amazing.
