The Story of Golda’s Locks and the Three Buyers

Once upon a time there was a young girl named Golda who collected antique locks.   As she grew older, Golda found she had more locks than she could ever hope to manage, so she decided to set up shop and hang out her shingle, offering her locks to the world.

Realizing much of her collection was alike, Golda decided her “extra” locks would be the perfect place to start.   With visions of that first and many sales, Golda excitedly arranged her front window display with two dozen extras, in rows and rows of colors and size alike. 

Days turned into weeks and many people passed, some slowing to take a peek, but still none stopped to venture in.

Finally, one day a young man opened the door and came inside, quickly scanning the locks in the front window as well as the few others in Golda’s display.

“Can I help you find anything?” Golda asked. 

“Well, I’m not sure.” said the lad.  “I’m looking for a lock for my father, who’s a collector.  I don’t really know that much about locks, but you don’t seem to have that many, and most of these look pretty much the same.  Do you have any others that are more interesting and unusual?  Ones I can be certain he’d enjoy?”

Golda quickly panned the locks she had on display and for the first time realized they truly were too much alike.  Her thoughts turned to the locks she loved and kept safely at home.  Unable to bear the thought of parting with even one, Golda meekly told the young man these were all she had, lowering her head and her spirits as he turned to leave.

Many more days and shoppers passed, and still Golda waited for that first sale.  One morning Golda reluctantly brought in two of her more unusual locks, placing them in the window for all to see.  In no time at all and to Golda’s delight, an older man stopped and looked, then wandered in.

“Can I help you?” Golda asked, her excitement barely contained. 

“I’ve collected locks most of my adult life, and I’m always looking to add a piece I don’t already have.  This story padlock looks quite interesting and I still don’t own one of these Winchesters.  How much might they be?” 

Golda told the man her prices, but he shook his head and laughed.  “The Winchester must be a fake or broken because that is far too cheap, and the story padlock… well, that one’s priced to keep.”

As the man left, Golda fought back her tears.  She thought about how she had priced the Winchester to sell (or so she thought), with so many more at home.  She knew it wasn’t broken and it certainly wasn’t fake.  Years ago she had found it in her grandfather’s barn, and since it had cost her nothing, its real worth had not been a concern.   Only now did Golda realize that someone not knowing its history might suspect her of deceit.  As for the story padlock, Golda bought that just last year at an auction where bids were flying high.  She’d paid more than she intended and even more than it was worth, but still had hoped to sell it and get her money back.  Now, she suddenly realized the truth in what he said -- she certainly wouldn’t buy it again for that price, so why did she expect others would.

That evening, as Golda studied her display, her thoughts flashed back to the first lock she ever bought and the many others that then followed.   Her favorite locks were not always the fancy, expensive ones, but ones that came with memories.   Suddenly, Golda found her love of locks and her dream of sharing them with the world renewed.  

One by one, Golda looked at and studied her locks, rearranging them both in display and price.  She mixed the everyday locks in with the bizarre and unusual, setting the prices so they weren’t too cheap to make others wonder, yet not so expensive to make them wince.  Once Golda felt she had it all “just right,” she locked up shop and headed home.

The next morning, Golda set out her newly arranged window display, with a few other locks that she brought in.  The hours passed and the sun grew tired, and Golda’s spirits waned.  Finally, a man known through town as the king of collectors walked past her window pane.  He turned, came back, and then he stopped, bending for a closer look.  Golda’s eyes went wide and she held her breath as the man reached for the door. 

“I’d like to see this lock,” he said, pointing to one she’d just brought in.   He studied and then tested it, obviously delighted that it worked.  “This one is just perfect,” he announced, “and the price is perfect too.” 

Golda could barely contain herself, excited at a possible sale.  “Can I also see that one?” he said, pointing to the story padlock, now repriced.  Minutes later and to Golda’s delight she heard, “I’ll take them both, and I’ll be back.  Good locks are hard to find.  Your selection is just great and your prices are reasonable too.“

Golda wrapped up his locks, the happiest she’d been in weeks. And as he left, Golda realized that in selling locks, the key to her success was not likely going to be making the top dollar on each and every sale. Instead, she would now focus on attracting customers who would buy and buy again, telling others of their most recent treasures and where they had been found.

Golda happily headed home, with many prosperous years to follow.