Thy Shall Not Steal is the eighth principle of moral behavior for the human race. It is also embedded into the foundation of the moral code and legal system of western civilization yet, it is probably the most desecrated. I believe that no one should steal. It was an ordinary summer weekend where I like many children were outside playing in the neighborhood. My family and I had recently relocated into a lovely home in a very prominent area of town. This home was not too far from a large university campus which I admired and dreamed of attending. I would sometimes redirected my route as I walked home from school carrying my book bag in hopes of being mistaken for a young college student. I would often ride my bicycle through the university campus and around the sporting fields to watch the baseball and fast pitch softball games. I recall that every Sunday evening I would ride my bicycle to the neighborhood volleyball court where I would play volleyball for hours and hours with the university students and staff. My bicycle was a brand new burgundy ten speed racing series with curled handlebars. I was very proud of my bicycle, I probably like every little boy thought that my bicycle was the fastest one that was ever made. Well, on this day I vividly recall that I was simply riding my bicycle back and forth up and down the street on which I lived. I could seemingly do that for hours without even breaking a sweat. On one of my trips as I passed by the house my mother was standing on the porch and called me in to eat and to take a break. That was very usual, I remember she would often say, “boy aren’t you tired yet; your little legs are going to fall off from riding that bike so much.” I reluctantly complied because I was having so much fun riding. I un-straddled my bicycle and walked it into the yard, up the steps and onto the front porch where I engaged the kick stand and allowed it to rest while I ate and took a break. What happened in that next hour changed and reinforced my beliefs profoundly. After eating and resting for a while I asked my mother if I could go back outside and continue to play, she replied, “yes but only for a little while longer because it will be dark soon.” I ran out the door making a beeline to my bicycle, however as I looked in the location where I last left it there was nothing there. Now bewildered I turned in circles to scan the porch and front yard.
I ran around the house to the backyard and looked in the garage with hopes that maybe my mom or dad had placed it in their while I was inside. Next I paced back and forth reflecting and thinking where on earth my bicycle could be! I ran inside and asked my mom where was my bicycle? Perplexed by my question she looked with a blank stare and said, “you parked it on the front porch.” After hearing that I ran back outside and look at the very same spot where I left by bicycle on the front porch now hoping and wishing that somehow I over looked it. Panic and anxiety sat in as I came to terms with the inevitable, that someone has taken my bicycle.
I walked and searched up and down the very same street that I would ride my bicycle for hours.
Next I decided to knock on the neighbors’ door to my left, right and across the street to ask if they have seen my bicycle, everyone replied “no.” I continued to walk and search the neighborhood, asking everyone that I came into contact with if they had seen my bicycle; time after time everyone exclaimed, “no.” After what seemed like an eternity, I broken heartedly began to cry and gave up my search. I slowly began my long arduous walk home through the neighborhood, up and down the same streets which I once rode my bicycle. On my arrival home mother was waiting at the door and empathetically watched as I paused on the porch and gazed at the area where my bicycle last sat; as if it were a memorial or sacred location. Finally I labored my into the house with my head held low. My mother attempted to comfort me by telling me not to be sad and that she would buy me another bicycle. Not ready to give up hope
I asked my parents could we call and report the theft to the authorities. They both felt that it would probably be to no avail, however in a supporting parental gesture they agreed that it would be ok to do so. Finally about two hours later a police officer arrived at our home and took a report of the theft. The officer asked my parents and me if my bicycle was registered? I immediately remembered that when my parents first purchased my bicycle that my best friend and I rode our bicycles over to the Fire Station to have them stenciled and registered. I quickly ran to my room, retrieved the registration card and presented it to the police officer.
Both my parents and the police officer complemented me for being so responsible and forth thinking by registering my bicycle. With this new information the officer informed my parents and I that because my bicycle was registered, if it was found the authorities would notify us.
Now with a glimmer of hope restored, I optimistically believed that my burgundy ten speed series racing bike with the curled handle bars would be returned to me. Prior to the police officer leaving he stated that my parents could call the police station every couple of days to see if my bicycle was recovered or turned in into the police station. Like a metronome every three days, I coerced my mom or dad to call the police station to see if my bicycle was found. Sad to say that after about three weeks, those phone calls stopped and that notification never came. That post traumatic event had such an entrancing impact on me personally that I never asked my parents for or wanted another bicycle. Roughly twenty years later while residing in
Okinawa, Japan I eventually purchased myself another bicycle, however even a score later I was overwhelm with memories of my old burgundy ten speed series racing bike with the curled handle bars as I chose a new one. I believe that the theft of someone’s personal possessions, property or belongings can be a devastating event, especially when it’s a young child’s most prized possession. Unfortunately I have been victimized by that heinous and disreputable crime several times during my life. Each incident took me mentally through a barrage of emotions such as anguish, pain and helplessness. This is why I believe that Thy Should Not Steal.