When I was in college around age 21, I was on a week-long backpack in the mountains of Flagstaff, Arizona (USA). Our group had flown in from New Jersey for spring break. On the fifth day, I noticed that my glasses were missing. They were bright-red, thick-rimmed prescription glasses that I LOVED because they were so unique and I'd never seen anyone else with glasses that looked similar. They really felt like a part of my personality.
I'd noticed they were gone and realized they'd likely fallen out of my backpack the night before when I was getting ready for bed, so they were at least 8 miles back from where we were at that point. Other than walking an extra 16 miles, there was no other way for me to get back to that point to look for them, so while I was pretty bummed, I figured they were a sacrifice to the mountain spirits and kept it moving.
We got back into Flagstaff a few days later and had some time until our flights back to NJ left the next day, so a few of us went to a thrift store near our hostel. We browsed for a bit in a BIG thrift store, and as we were about done, I saw a basket of old glasses.