I came across this letter I had written to myself in 2009. Our son and his family had been down to visit us for Thanksgiving, and had their car burglarized.
I'll print this here for anyone who suffered a theft or burglary this past season of giving:
Dated November 27, 2009
We had a great visit this Thanksgiving from our son, his
wife, and our two granddaughters. As
they prepared to leave, my son discovered that the family’s car had been
burglarized sometime this morning after they had started packing their belongings
into the car.
Gone were the iPod, the portable DVD player that kept the
kids entertained in the car, and their entire collection of DVD movies.
Gone were other possessions; My son's jacket;
My 14 month old granddaughter's snacks; other things not to be discovered until
the family got home.
My five year old granddaughter was heartbroken. “I don’t like those kinds of people,” she
pronounced. If you are ever deprived of the love of a five
year old, then you are truly condemned.
Then she asked the hardest questions. The ones that we adults don’t know the
answers to:
“Why would anyone be that
mean? Didn’t anyone ever teach them it's
wrong to steal?”
My granddaughter cried.
She cried like we adults have been taught not to cry. She cried for the loss of her possessions.
She cried for the loss of her sister’s possessions.
She cried for the loss of her parents and her grand-parents possessions.
She cried for all of us.
...
And we wept for her loss of innocence.
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