Potato Soup & Persian Blinds
I love my mom's potato soup. I love it. It's creamy, simple, has yummy rivlets, and is perfecto if you put a dab of butter in the center of the bowl just before consuming it. Delish. I was craving it and decided to make a pot, inviting the two interns, Sarah and Grace, to come and eat lunch with me and Gaby in my apartment last Monday afternoon.
It was a delightful lunch and afternoon, finishing the special day event off with a little apple crisp and a generous scoop of a la mode. Oh yeah, and Venezuelan coffee. Could this day get any better?!?!
Nope, it couldn't.
Gaby and took Sarah and Grace home and when we came back we were faced with a horrible reality. Gaby's keys were in the door to our apartment......on the inside. My keys wouldn't work because hers were already in the lock on the other side. I knocked on our neighbor's door to see if we could climb over the wall that separates our patios, but the knocking echoed throughout the empty apartment. Now we know we don't have neighbors across the hall.
Gaby: We could call the firemen. At the Police Headquarters they said that we can always call 112 in case of an emergency.
Me: I don't think this is a real emergency.
Gaby: How else are we going to get into the apartment?
I prayed out loud that the Lord would make the keys fall out of the lock on the other side. To give Him a hand I gave the door a quick shoulder pounding. I don't think He appreciated the help. The keys didn't budge.
I mentioned that maybe we could climb up to our balcony from the street. We live on the second floor and we could maybe climb up the windows that are below and enter that way. Then I remembered the blinds. The "persians" as the Spanish would call them. They are blinds that are on the outside of the the windows that you can raise and put down from inside the window. They protect from heat and from cold, and I had lowered them 30 seconds before taking Sarah and Grace home.
This wasn't looking good. I could almost hear the sirens of the bomberos....
I had sent a text to my friend Jorge, who responded with a greeting but was working and so he couldn't chat more.
Gaby: Maybe we should ask a neighbor if they have an idea of what we could do.
Me (still bummed the keys hadn't fallen out of the other side): Well, go ahead.
She walked to the other end of the hall as I listened with my ear to the door for the sound of keys falling to the floor. Nada.
I watch Gaby explain to the neighbor what had happened and he put his shoes on and came down to see what had happened. Danny, our new hero, came down with a piece of plastic and worked tirelessly to release the switch. But our door was closed really tight. Danny was sweating. I was apologizing. Gaby kept turning on the light. (the hall lights are on timers). We continued in this cycle for 30 minutes.
It was evident that Danny wasn't going to win the match with the door. He knew it. Gaby knew it. We all knew it. We began to discuss other options, and he said something about it being too bad that he couldn't get in through the balcony. I told him he could get up there and that the glass door was open, but that we had the problem of those wonderful persians.
Super Danny said that the persians weren't a problem.
We went outside, he scampered up the windows and began pulling up on those blessed persians with all his might. They gave way little by little and Gaby went back inside. I cheered on from down below and as soon as Super Danny had enough space, he crawled into the apartment. Moments later he opened the front door and we thanked him over and over and over and over and over and over again.
I told Super Danny that at least I was right -- leaving keys the door keep the intruders out. He said his wife always likes to leave the keys in the door as well. But he doesn't like it because of.......well, because of what just happened to us. We all chuckled and we felt a new bond was created.
The next day I quickly made up some cookies and Gaby and I took them down to Super Danny and his wife, Ascension. His wife greeted us and had little two-month-old Super Danny Junior in her arms. She couldn't believe that we had given them cookies and said that Danny was happy to help.
After the whole ordeal was over, we were glad that it had happened because it gave us an opportunity to meet our neighbors, make a memory with them, and bless them through it as well.
And now I know why God just didn't simply make the keys fall out. Cue the music, Garth, and let's everybody sing together nice and loud: "sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers" :)
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