I was visiting with my son in Arizona. My wife and I were staying in our travel trailer. My son was at work, the grandchildren were in school and my wife had taken her mother, who was staying with us at the time, to the mall. I decided to go for a ride around the desert and began looking for my truck keys. Now in a travel trailer there are not too many places to put keys. But somehow I had misplaced the keys to the truck. I searched the trailer from front to back and outside along the sandy walkway thinking I might have dropped them when I came into the house the other day. No luck. The dining table is right in front of the door as you enter the trailer; it is small and doesn't hold much. I had taken everything off the table at least twice that I can remember but could not find the keys. I walked outside again and the thought came to mind, "St. Anthony, patron of lost things," and I remembered the little prayer I read: "Tony, Tony, turn around, something is lost and must be found." Upon finishing the prayer I walked back into the trailer. The keys were lying in the middle of the dining table. I almost lost my breath. I reached out and touched the keys; sure enough, they were real. They were not there five minutes ago. I could not have missed them when I cleaned the table; they were on a keychain with a fob to open the doors and there were other keys on the ring also. I could not have overlooked it. Did Saint Anthony hear and answer my prayers? Well, I found my keys or St. Anthony returned them to me. Yes, I do believe.
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