(Cont’d from yesterday)
To finish the story of Gloria, the little Ugandan girl who is the thief –turned-family-friend, there’s not much more to say except that in the past days we have been robbed of items of far greater import than swimsuits and underwear. Twice.
At Christmas in particular, thieves need to get on with their seasonal business. Besides the previously mentioned piano, some valuable technology of My Bride’s has been taken.
Last night, with company over, she and I darted out of the house in our bare feet to chase another would-be thief across our front lawn before he got away though the bushes.
Of course, My Bride once beat up some boys who tried to steal her Halloween candy. Such are the beginnings of a heart of justice.
So, these days we’re vigilantly keeping the children inside during evenings.
And the African beat goes on. Theft and corruption and lies and manipulation and what my father called ‘playing from the middle to both ends’ continue to destroy entire swaths of this continent.
The problem is not only the thievery. It’s the cultural acceptance of it.
The thieves, regardless of what continent they may live in, also suffer in their own way. Sooner or later, life has a way of dishing out consequences to those of us who take what is not ours to take. But every once in a while, something else happens – like with Gloria.
This, I find, as incredible as summer snow. From it, all sorts of good things follow. This is what our children have learned.
Then they look up and open their mouths and laugh and spin and let the snow fall. And we know that no matter what happens or where we may be, it’s Christmas.
Wishing you and yours one of joy and peace.