St. Peter and the Keys to the Church, Not to my Car

This morning I donned my bulky parka then picked up Dad for Church. After Mass, my dad asked if we were ready to go. I said no because I could not find my keys. We looked everywhere, and two strangers helped us. I checked under the pews (by crawling underneath them), under my car, on the sidewalk between car and the church, the four pockets in my parka, and dumped my purse out several times. No keys. Dad was getting mad at me, I tried pleading to St. Jude and St. Anthony. Just great, my keys ran away to join my missing pants and my missing mitten. Ugh.

No keys.

In anticipation of this day coming, I carry an extra set of keys in my purse. Whew! Did the keys fall under the car seats? No, but I found about a dollar in loose change (my retirement fund!) scattered on the floorboards of my car. Finally, we gave up after 45 minutes and went to the grocery store.

Dad was more upset than I was. I said it was an opportunity for a miracle. I wondered if St. Peter ever lost the keys to the Church.

Upon arriving at the grocery store, my dad asked for my coat and my legally BLIND father found my keys in a 5th pocket located near my right armpit. I said I didn't know that pocket was there. Then I noticed another secret pocket, and another, and another. How many pockets does my parka have???

Clearly, my parka is too advanced for me. And thank you for your help, Saints Anthony and Jude.