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Today's Christian, November/December 2000
The Night a Robber Dropped In
A botched burglary led to an unforgettable Christmas
By Connon Barclay
 As a young college student I did not have much money. For me, hitting the books was easy, but putting my feet to the pavement was a chore.
Family members wondered about my sanity when I rented one of two small apartments on the second floor of a burned-out furniture store. The building had been condemned, but the price for living in such an ugly place was budget-beautiful. After years of middle-class comfort, I was also spending the year without a car. My only real possessions were a used black-and-white portable television, a typewriter, and card table/desk.
Though my living quarters were tiny, they were quiet and certainly secure. Who would walk on the roof next to my windows? Especially since the holes in the roof were still not repaired from the fire.
A surprise houseguest
One night I left my television on, posing as a night-light. I'd fallen asleep on what years before had been advertised as a couch. A book with too many 50-cent words lulled me into dreamland. About five feet from my head was one of two windows I had fashionably covered with scissored sheets.
The Christmas season was in full stride. However, my apartment lacked the wonderful smell of a freshly decorated tree; instead, I'd been trying to air out the place from an unfortunate kitchen incident with a burnt meatloaf. My window was open several inches more than usual.
It was way past midnight when I heard the window go up quickly and suddenly. A sneaker-clad foot stepped through the opening.
What do you do when someone enters your window uninvited? This hadn't been covered in my home economics class. Since my feet still ached from carrying the TV from a garage sale 100 blocks away, and I needed my typewriter and card table, I wasn't about to be generous. I lunged for the leg and arm.
I missed. The would-be intruder twisted, jumped out the window, and ran across the roof. With only sock traction, I headed him off at street level, meeting him just as he jumped from the low roof.
My adrenaline was pumping and I almost killed the youth as I apprehended him. He started to cry as I forced him upstairs so I could call the police.
Since my neighborhood had more than its share of patrol cars, within minutes three squad cars arrived. The police handcuffed the teenager and took him down to a police cruiser. I followed along.
Then it was back to my apartment with two officers to show them the window the robber thought was a door. The third officer stayed in the cruiser, filling out a report.
The officers explained the procedure—the teenager would be taken to jail, and I needed to contact the prosecutor's office.
Taking a chance on change
Just then, the two officers started arguing. "We need to rid our streets of drug addicts like the bum you caught," the first officer started. "You told us, Mr. Barclay, you could not understand why anyone would rob you. Obviously, he saw the light from your TV, and thought it was something he could trade for drugs."
The other officer put me on the spot. Despite his partner's objections, he explained the 17-year-old offender's background—since he already had a police record. The teen came from an abusive family situation, had been expelled from school, and not only had his entire family disowned him, but he was on probation for previous robberies.
"If you press charges, he'll go to prison," the officer concluded.
"But, if you agree not to press charges, I'll promise to get the teen into a counseling center for addicts, to rehabilitate both him and his family."
Could I deny this young person one more chance if someone believed in him so much?
The first officer noticed my hesitation. "If you go easy on him, his friends will hear and they'll be coming in your window next!" He also reminded me that if the boy had been armed, I could have been seriously injured.
He was right. But, still, the other officer's willingness to go against his partner and personally follow-up on the young robber was impressive. I've needed some second chances over the years, I thought, as past kindnesses came to mind. I couldn't deny giving the boy's future over to the caring officer.
It felt good the next few days and all through Christmas knowing I had given something worth more than a few nicely wrapped presents.
Frankly, I did nail down the window until I could find my next address … one that didn't have an easy roof access. In the subsequent months, I looked for the boy's name in the paper but never saw it nor did I hear anything more.
Then the following Christmas I received a card from the kind police officer. "Wanted to let you know counseling seemed to work and the boy has been reunited with some caring members of his family. He should do well. I trust only Santa is coming through your windows at your new address. Have a Merry Christmas!" It was indeed.
A Christian Reader original article.
Copyright © 2000 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian magazine (formerly Christian Reader).
Click here for reprint information.
November/December 2000, Vol. 38, No. 6, Page 63
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