Luck o' the Checkoslovakians?

I was working at the park yesterday afternoon. The weather was cool, so I was wearing a light jacket. My jacket has zippered pockets so I usually keep my set of shop keys zipped up in one pocket and my car keys zipped in the other.
We needed to move a big pile of bamboo roots that had been excavated from the park manager's yard. Since I was the only one there who knew how to drive a stick shift (I know. It's hard to imagine, isn't it?) I was delegated to drive the big 1-ton dump truck.
I put on my gloves and went to get the truck. But when I started it up I discovered that the emergency brake was hung up and wouldn't release! I tried repeatedly setting and releasing the brake and rocking the truck back and forth but nothing worked. Well, that ended the root removal project - for the time being.
I took off my gloves, put them in my jacket pockets, and looked for something else to do.
Then I remembered that I still had about 30 minutes worth of mowing to finish in a remote area of the park we call "the outback".
I hopped on one of the riding mowers and off I went. My mowing pattern allowed me to mow in counter-clockwise circles which conveniently discharged the clippings away from the grass that needed mowing and threw them all over the grass I had finished mowing.
When I finished, I drove the mower back to the shop, hosed it off, and put it away. By then, it was 4:00 and time to lock up and go home. I reached in my left pocket, took out my ring of "shop keys", and locked the shop door. Then, I reached in my right pocket for my car keys...
NOT THERE!
I reached in my left pocket...
NOT THERE!
I reached in my jeans pockets, looked all around where I was standing, looked in the 1-ton, looked under the mower, looked where I had hosed off the mower, looked in the car...
NOT THERE!
Oh no... The keys must have fallen out of my jacket pocket while I was mowing. The ONLY reason that could happen was because my pocket wasn't zipped shut and the reason for that was because I put my glove in it and the ONLY reason my glove was in it was because the HUNK-OF-JUNK TRUCK WOULDN'T MOVE!!!
I wasn't happy.
I walked back to the "Outback" and looked at all the grass clippings blanketing the ground. The area was about half the size of a football field. If my keys were out there, they had to be covered with clippings. I didn't give myself much chance of finding them.
I decided to start walking along the same line where I had started mowing - sweeping my feet back and forth through the clippings as I went.
To my utter amazement, joy, and relief, I uncovered my keys about 3/4 way around the first lap.
What are the odds?!
I trotted back to the office where June, the head gardener, was just getting ready to leave. When told her that I'd found the keys, she said, "While you were on your way to the outback, I said a little prayer to Saint Anthony, the Saint of lost things." Then she recited for me her little prayer-rhyme. I thought that was nice of her to do that, even though it sounded like something a 7 year-old would say. But hey, something led me to the right spot!
I thought I'd found my keys through a combination of logic, patience, and effective scanning technique but maybe it was simply a matter of divine intervention.
One thing's for sure: I'm keeping my car keys in my jeans pocket from now on!
Later, after I got home, I looked up Saint Anthony on the net. Holy Moley Tony! You are the man! In addition to lost articles, Saint Anthony is the patron saint of starving people, poor people, animals, Indians, amputees, boatmen, old people, fishermen, expectant mothers, harvests, mail, and last but not least, travel hostesses.
Pardon me while I smirk. I can't help myself.