Restitution

As I seated myself in the waiting area on a rather hard and uncomfortable chair, I cautiously took in my surroundings. Some beautiful architecture, a couple of lovely paintings and a breathtaking stain glass skylight. There is an older couple to my left and a small desk on my right. Just after lunch, there are many people milling around, heading to meetings, off to make phone calls and fill another day at work. A deputy comes down the hall with a man. The man is wearing handcuffs. The man is a prisoner. This is Mr. Rice, the man who broke my back door and stole my belongings. The nervousness I have been feeling rises. Do I look him in the eye? Do I acknowledge him? Do I smile? And when I am almost completely overwhelmed with questions, he turns to the couple sitting next to me and calls them "mom" and "dad".

Of all the possibilities that had gone through my head about how this moment would play out...sitting next to the burglar's parents had not even entered my mind. He has parents. He is someone's son. How must they be feeling? How have they sat through these court hearings and sentencings? What do they think of me? Of those of us who filed claims against their son?

They won't look at me, even though I try to make eye contact with them. I want to see them, and I want them to see me. I do not hate this man, the man they have raised since he was a babe in their arms. I am not angry at him, the one they taught to walk and talk and ride a bike. I am saddened by a soul so alone that he felt he had no choice but to take from others. And though this appears to be such an innocent crime in the eyes of the court, it has impacted our innocent children almost as much as loosing their entire home. That is what I wish I could share.

No one was home at the time of the crime (thus why it is a burglary and not a robbery) and after hearing of Mr. Rice's other crimes, I do not believe he would have harmed us. But his actions have taken a sense of security from all of us, particularly the children. They didn't want to move any of their things here until we moved, just in case someone broke in again. They didn't want to loose what they had just replaced. One of the children has requested we guard the window near their bed so no one can break in at night (we are actually working on a gate that could be removed in an emergency but would give them some sense of security back). This is what I wish I could share.

My oldest was confused by the crime. "Why would someone take something that isn't their's?" Good question! I did my best to explain, to which he replied, "why didn't he just ask me mommy? I would have shared with him!" With all my precious little ones have been through, it brings me to tears that my oldest child would respond with such love and compassion. We have been champions of Kindness Ministries at our church...all of us! The babies in strollers or baby carriers, meeting people where they are, meeting needs, sharing love and kindness. Buying food, clothing, school supplies. Helping with Christmas presents and electric bills. No one is rejected. When a need is shared or identified, we do what we can to help. Apparently this young one has caught the vision. This is what I wish I could share.

But as I sit in the court room and hear the sentence read, I am not asked to speak. It is as though I am a spectator, not one of the victims. The court has decided to make him serve as little time as possible for all 9 burglaries between the two counties, so that he can get a job and start paying everyone restitution. Restitution: an act of restoring or a condition of being restored. Restore: to give back, return, to put again in possession of something. They want him to give money for the estimated value of the things he took and figure he can't very well do that behind bars. I however, feel very uneasy with the idea that in such a short time he could once again be our neighbor. That does not restore (bring back or return) my sense of security. He has a history of breaking laws. Jail time has not been a wake up call for him in the past. I have no reason to believe his behavior has or will change.

The bailiff prepares to take Mr. Rice back to the jail as his parents say good bye. The state's attorney approaches and offers to answer any questions I might have. She reiterates the court's desire to have us monetarily compensated and assures me I can call her office if I have any questions. I walk back down the two flights of stairs and out to my car. I am overwhelmed by thoughts and feelings (many of which I'm sure I still haven't processed). I really wish I had taken the opportunity to speak to Mr. Rice or his parents. They didn't want to acknowledge me, but I really wish I could say "I don't care about the money. We've counted our losses and moved on. I know you are NEVER going to pay all of us back for every penny you took. BUT I didn't pursue this case to make you pay me back. I pursued you to stop you from hurting other people! Yes, your actions have hurt people! I really wish you could take this as an opportunity to grow up and change your behavior. I really wish you would learn to work for what you need and when you can't, reach out and ask for help instead of taking what isn't yours. I wish you could know my son and his heart of compassion towards you. And I really wish you had just asked first, we really, truly would have helped you."

I drove away with a sense of finality, finally knowing what I really want to say, now I just need another opportunity to say it. I've never thought much about writing to prisoners, but I must admit, I am seriously considering it.

Have you ever been the victim of a crime? What would you say if given the chance to confront him/her? Have you confronted him/her? Please feel free to share with me, I would like to hear your story.