23 May, 2008


Someone stole my son's bicycle recently. It was a truly brazen act; he had left the bike in the carport, so the thief had to walk all the way up the driveway and into the back of the carport. After that I suppose he could have ridden away on it, but still!

We're not entirely sure when it happened. My son says that he saw the bicycle this morning when we left for his school. I don't remember seeing it but I was half-asleep anyway. My wife is quite sure that it wasn't there when she did something during the morning.

My wife and I asked ourselves why someone would steal his bicycle? There are probably many answers to this question, starting with the fact that it was a pretty nice bike, all things considered. I've wondered if the price of gas had something to do with it, too. Maybe not; maybe it was just a matter of wanting to sell it for money.

My son took it fairly well, I think. He brought in the grill tonight, as well as the baby strollers. (At least the thief didn't see fit to steal those.)

This isn't the first time that something has disappeared. Last time, it was a pair of old sandals that I used for work shoes. They had paint on them. I guess someone thought I wouldn't miss them. Someone was wrong.

We can count ourselves lucky that we've only lost a pair of sandals and a bicycle, but I'd be a liar if I told you that this episode doesn't change the way I view my neighborhood, and my neighbors.

At times like this, loving one's neighbor and forgiving one's enemies are difficult. Very difficult.

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