Poems, Personal Stories, and Observations

Posts tagged ‘theft’

More Crimes of My Youth

I was about eight years old. It was probably just after Halloween, and I went over to my neighbor’s to play with my friend Joey. Maybe we were comparing our candy hauls, or he was just showing me his. I don’t know what possessed me, but when he was out of the room, I took one of the candies: An orange wax candy harmonica, a real prize. (They are making a comeback: see https://woweewaxwhistles.com/.)

I’m not sure how I got away with it, but I took it home, and presumably ate it.

But, I DIDN’T get away with it. His mom confronted me at some point, and asked if I’d taken it. I had to confess, “Yes”. The consequence was that I had to pay for the candy or buy a new one. That one smart mom prevented me from ever becoming a future thief.

Tenth grade: I was about 15. Again, who knows my motivation (just trying to prove I was grown up? boredom with school?), but I played hooky several times from class. Once or twice, it was biology, and another time I think it was geometry.

Eventually, my conscience caught up with me. Did I hear something about honesty in church? Did I already know deep down inside that it was wrong? Something caused me to confess to my teachers and to say I was sorry. I still suffered the demerits in my grades; however, the teachers did not hold it against me personally, and were actually quite kind.

How good it is to confess our sins!

At the Laundromat

Sixty washers and sixty dryers,
All going ’round in circles,
Never ending …

Until a buzzer rings,
Until the fat lady sings.

Here’s a family with two kids,
Here’s a senior, down on the skids —
Changing his clothes just after drying.

Here’s a young man just returned,
His clothes have disappeared, he learns,
Surprised and shocked, he looks around.

I’d wondered ’bout that lady who
Said, “Don’t know
Who these clothes belong to –
Are they mine?”

Well, eventually it was straightened out.
Indeed, she’d taken what was his
And into the dryer, along it went
Tumbling ’round and ’round, along with hers.

Next week, I visited once more.
The young man came inside the door.
I asked him if he’d got his clothes.

Of one pair socks, he was depleted,
He shrugged, not seeming too defeated —
Serenely accepting an item deleted.