The Keeper of Lost Things
The Keeper of Lost Things by Ruth Hogan
Some stories don’t arrive with fireworks or grand magic — they arrive quietly, like a soft knock at the heart.
The Keeper of Lost Things is one of those books.
At its center is Anthony Peardew, a retired writer who spends his life collecting lost objects after the death of his fiancée, Therese. Each misplaced glove, photograph, or trinket becomes a small act of devotion — a way of honoring love, memory, and the ache of what was lost. When Anthony passes, his home and his unusual mission are left to Laura, his assistant, who is herself navigating the emotional aftermath of divorce and a life that feels untethered.
What unfolds is a tender, interconnected story about grief and second chances — not only through Laura’s journey, but through the many lives tied to the objects Anthony once kept safe. With the help of gentle, quirky companions like Sunshine and Freddy, Laura begins returning these lost things to their rightful owners, discovering that healing often happens sideways, in moments we’re not actively seeking it.
The dual timelines — especially the historical thread involving Eunice — add depth without heaviness. Past and present echo one another in a way that feels purposeful rather than overwhelming, reminding us that grief doesn’t disappear with time; it simply changes shape.
This book leans more toward emotional resonance than overt magic. There’s a whisper of magical realism in the way coincidences unfold and lives align, but the true enchantment here is human: kindness, patience, and the quiet courage it takes to keep loving after loss. I found myself tearing up more than once — not because the story was emotionally taxing, but because it was beautifully honest in its softness.
For empaths and sensitive readers, this is a deeply safe book. It holds grief with care, never demanding too much, never pushing pain for the sake of drama. Instead, it offers warmth, comfort, and the reassurance that nothing meaningful is ever truly lost — it simply waits until we’re ready to receive it again.
Timing-wise, this is an especially lovely read for winter or early January — a season when we’re naturally reflecting, releasing, and finding our footing again. It pairs well with quiet mornings, warm tea, and moments of stillness.
In the end, The Keeper of Lost Things feels like a gentle hand on your back, reminding you that healing doesn’t have to be loud or fast. Sometimes, it arrives softly — through connection, memory, and the unexpected grace of being found.
✨ Pages & Portals Rating ✨
Emotional Impact: 💫💫💫
Magic & Mystery: 🌌
Empath Resonance: 🪽
Spice Level: 🫑
Nervous System Impact: 🌬️
Overall Rating: 🍂 Enjoyed — cozy, heartwarming, and quietly meaningful
