Unlocking the Nuns’ Stash

My first two years of school involved walking about four miles each day. The Catholic nuns, or sisters as they were called, drove a car from Hostyn to the Radhost school house every day.

Sometimes my sister, brother and I reached the school ground before the sisters got there. The schoolhouse itself was never locked so we could actually be in the classroom before the sisters came.

It just so happened that the sisters kept a large shelf stocked with candy under lock and key in the classroom. At noon and again at recess they unlocked the shelf and sold the candy to anyone who wanted an extra snack at recess or after eating the lunches they had brought in their lunch pails from home.

After examining the lock and key used to lock that shelf, I noticed that type of key looked familiar. My dad was a self-taught locksmith and had many assorted keys and locks in a large box in his workshop. One day I picked out a key I thought might fit the lock at school. One morning when we came to school early, I tried that key in the lock guarding the candy and, lo and behold, it fit. Well, there I was like a kid in a candy factory! My first impulse was to help myself to a lot of candy, but I knew better! Just like Johnny Cash’s song about bringing home parts of a car in his lunch box one piece at a time to keep anyone from missing them at the factory; I took only a few pieces of penny candy. No candy bars because those would be more easily missed. After all, my objective was to satisfy my curiosity that I could actually open that antique lock with one of my Dad’s antique keys. As I replaced the lock and as I clicked it shut, I first grabbed a handful of that penny candy. As far as the cost of that handful of candy was concerned, it amounted to about 10 or 15 cents. But it still was a form of stealing and it actually didn’t taste just right like it would have had I actually paid for it!

This was the only time I tried this stunt. I put the antique key back into my dad’s assortment of keys. I suppose the half hour prayer and catechism class each morning by those nuns were embedded in my eight year old subconscious brain. Everyone has a conscience, and I believe I woke mine up that day!