The first time I entered my house as a new homeowner I did something silly. I had a dozen keys on the key ring, and figuring there was no use in carrying them all, I took one off and left the other eleven on the counter. When I left, I locked the handle of the door and headed back to the office. That evening when I returned home, my key didn’t work. You see the key I had in my hand was for the deadbolt, but the locked door was sealed by the handle.
As I often do when I’m in a pickle, I called my Dad and asked him for advice. He presented a number of alternatives including asking the neighbors if they had a key (nope), borrowing a ladder and checking the second story windows (locked), trying to fiddle the lock free with a small screwdriver (fort knox), and finally sliding an old credit card between the latch and the jam.
I slid the orange and black Dave & Buster’s card into the crevice at the same moment a gust of wind whirled down the street (no kidding) and the door, nudged by the hand of some unknown force, gently and invitingly swung open.
Miracles do happen.