Right after Ben and Megan had been robbed for the third time, we all sequestered in the kitchen, like hostages. We watched as two police officers poked through their personal belongings – the violation following the violation.
“My guess is it’s somebody you know,” one officer said, freeing a notepad from the oppression of his belly-tight belt.
“We know that,” Megan said, making them feel stupid while making it seem like she was making nice.
“Well, we can dust everything they might have touched, but that probably won’t prove anything,” he said, then smiled, “It’s not like on CSI.”
How do we hire them? I thought, glancing out the window. Recently, our neighbors had the eco-friendly idea of hanging tinsel on their outside bushes; within minutes the wind had strewn it over the street and our yard. Soon the squirrels would be pooping silver. Still, it sparkled pretty, provided you knew it was tinsel, and not sharpened razor blades, which, in this neighborhood, was a more reasonable conclusion.
The other officer walked by a desk and stopped. “They didn’t take the computer,” he puzzled, peering into the dark monitor, as though it were a Magic 8 ball that would give him an answer. Just then the screensaver started, a slideshow of community house pictures: us smiling, neighborhood kids smiling, staff smiling, volunteers smiling; everyone smiling as though they had discovered a really good secret.
“Thanks for being here,” Megan said to Kevin and I. We shrugged and shuffled our feet, unsure of where else we should be but here.
Ben braced Megan from the back, his arms resting against her ribs, hands cradling their unborn baby. Last Christmas they played Mary and Joseph. This Christmas they are not playing. Their baby will be born in the ‘hood, in our stable of bachelors, in the awe of little wise kids. And her name shall be called Cadence Grace.
When one of the disciples, Philip, told his friend, Nathanael, that Jesus was from Nazareth, Nathanael exclaimed, “Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” Philip smiled and responded, “Come and see.”
Sad to hear about the robbery, but thank you for sharing such a vulnerable moment. There have been a few recent situations in my own life that make me wonder how anything good could come of them. It helps to remember that it is not a unique struggle, and that goodness has revealed itself in more difficult circumstances when those involved continued to trust and seek. Merry Christmas.
ReplyDeleteI remember the first time they were robbed, feeling a betrayal of trust and a certainty that they'd move. I remember when their vehicle was stolen. I remember when they were robbed the second time. And then the third time. Each time thinking "This one will definitely send them packing, how could it not, with a new baby on the way??" And I remember each time thinking how much I love and adore them for loving and adoring that neighborhood too much to abandon it, no matter what it does to repay them. If that ain't Jesus love, I don't know what is.
ReplyDeleteBen, I love your writing. Have I said that yet today?
ReplyDeleteYour writing is riveting; you are captivating. You are the best friend anyone could have.
ReplyDeleteHow do you come upon these moments again and again?
ReplyDelete