On the evening of December 27, 2008, my then 7-year-old son, Dalton, and I had come home and he got to the house before I did. While waiting on me, as was his habit, Dalton knocked on the door. Since he knew no one was home, I asked him why he was knocking on the door. He told me maybe somebody was there. I told him Jerrica (his sister) wasn't there, so there was no one home to let him in. Being Dalton, he continued to knock; not leaning on the door, just casually standing and knocking. I asked him what he would do if one of these days someone opened the door when he knocked. (This is something I ask him all the time because he always knocks on the door, even when Jerrica isn't home. No sooner did I get the last word out of my mouth than the door opened. I couldn't believe it! Dalton kind of glanced my way and just walked right in; apparently didn't think anything of it. My heart just about jumped out of my chest! I hurried to the door, rushing inside right behind him.
Once I got inside the house, I called Jerrica and asked her if she had been home; thinking that if she'd been there, maybe she didn't get the door completely shut when she left. Jerrica said she hadn't been home. I went back and checked the doorknob to make sure it was locked. It was still in the locked position. I know that I had shut the door completely closed when we left that morning because I pushed on the doorknob to make sure it was shut. That is something I was extremely conscious of doing every day. I asked Dalton to come outside and show me what he did that opened the door. I pulled the door closed. He told me he "didn't do nuthin', just knocked" and showed me how he knocked. I thought maybe he leaned on the door a little and I just didn't see him and it popped open, but when I leaned against it nothing happened. I even pushed hard and trust me; I used force, absolutely nothing. Later I thanked whoever let Dalton in.
This made me remember a few days earlier when Dalton was knocking on the door and I asked him, again, why he was knocking when no one was home. But this time he said he heard someone walking and thought maybe they'd let him in. Since I knew Jerrica wasn't home, I told him no one was there, so no one could let him in. I guess maybe I was wrong!
During the 10 months that we rented the house, we learned that the original homeowner, a woman named Mary, died in her home. It began as a 2 room log cabin that had, over the years, been added onto. I don't believe Mary ever left her home.
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As many times as Dalton knocked, though, Mary only opened the door for him the one time. So who knows? But it was truly a great experience and one he and I talk about occasionally. I'm not sure it made an impact on him at all. But losing his Buzz Lightyear and then finding it, that one stays fresh in his memories. (This is part 2 of my Mary stories if you didn't read it.)
Again, thanks for taking the time to read my story and commenting.