Stealing is Good. Yes, that is correct; I said, “Stealing is Good”. In fact, you should steal as much as you can, as often as you can, on a regular basis.
Oh! Just in case you did not know – I am a devout Christian. And as we Christians like to say: “Verily I say” stealing is good!
What do I mean by this? Have I fallen off the wagon? Have I lost my way? No, I have not. So let me explain what I mean by sharing a childhood experience.
Stealing is Good
My family was poor. When I say poor I mean poor, there were times that food was scarce. Though we had government assistance (known by my generation as – Welfare), we found ourselves many times scraping to get by. The government assistance would come in once a month – the beginning of the month was a blessing. The thing is that government assistance was always just barely enough. This meant that if things went bad we were scraping by at the end of the month.
Let me be clear – my mother in no way was mismanaging the funds. The fact is that she stretched that just enough to feed seven children, of which one was extremely disabled and sickly. Let me not fail to mention that my father had abandoned his family, his wife, his home – to take care of someone else’s children and that is all I will mention about my father.
Have you ever heard the phrase “I have too much month”, that was the existence we lived. At the end of the month is was our normal, to find our poor family struggling to get by – to survive. I remember that it was not until I was a teen that I noticed that mom ate last not because she was not hungry. It was because she was not eating. She would make certain that we all were feed before she even considered eating. It broke my heart when I realized that mom was skinny and frail because she was not eating while we as children fought each other over the last piece of chicken.
When I was about five to six years old I was secretly living out a popular movie – A Christmas story (*) and I was Ebenezer Scrooge. I had somehow noticed that we were poor and I wanted to build wealth, I wanted to be rich because it gave me a sense of security.
There I was stealing small amounts of change from my mother’s purse. Every other day, once a week or every other day or sometimes on a daily basis I was secretly sneaking into my mother’s purse to steal a few coins. I knew it was wrong, that is why I did it behind her back. Quietly I tiptoed into her room and gingerly pocketed a few coins (I stole from my mom). I knew it was wrong and that is why I only took what I believed she would not miss.
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