One of the expressions I remember from childhood is ‘blessing in disguise.’ My parents used it liberally.

It had various applications.

When I was a young boy, one fine summer day I accompanied my father from our house to an outdoor incinerator. Open burning was allowed at that time where we lived. My father carried a sizable cannister which he hoisted onto one shoulder.

That field, vast to a preschooler, was named for the people who lived at its east end. One curious thing is I never saw anyone enter or exit the house, but suspected it must be occupied.