I had a post planned, which I burden you with on Thursday, but something happened on the way home. I was driving down James M. Wood Blvd. when traffic came to a stop at about Kingsley or Ardmore. There were a bunch of police cars so I assumed there was an accident. It's only a two-way stop and there are a lot of close calls there. As I sat, Jamie started idling funny. The van in front of me wouldn't turn the corner to go around the block and I was getting very annoyed. Then I saw what was stopping traffic.
The police had two young men (boys really) in handcuffs. They pulled the first one in front of the spotlight of a police car on the cross street, presumably to be identified by a person inside, then put him in the back of a waiting cruiser. This was repeated for the second man, who was escorted to a different car. A brindled pit bull was tethered to the street sign post barking wildly until a police officer got down on one knee and comforted him. My first reaction was, "Great! How long is this going to take." Then I stopped myself and remembered that these young men are somebody's children. Some mother or father is going to get a phone call, if they weren't already watching nearby, telling them their child is in jail. I remembered how it felt to stand helplessly while the police led my big brother away in cuffs and how I wanted to protest "but he's not a bad person. He's my big brother. He has a kind heart. Don't take him away."
So all the way home I prayed. I prayed for the young men to let this be the last time they are in cuffs. If they did something wrong or not, I prayed that they find a way out of that life. I prayed for their mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters to have strength and stand by their boys, show them a better way, and help them through this. And I prayed for the poor dog who was probably confused and wondering, "Where are my boys going? Who's this guy in blue? What's happening?" I prayed that the dog is taken home to a family he knows or placed in a good foster home.
I hope my prayers work.
The police had two young men (boys really) in handcuffs. They pulled the first one in front of the spotlight of a police car on the cross street, presumably to be identified by a person inside, then put him in the back of a waiting cruiser. This was repeated for the second man, who was escorted to a different car. A brindled pit bull was tethered to the street sign post barking wildly until a police officer got down on one knee and comforted him. My first reaction was, "Great! How long is this going to take." Then I stopped myself and remembered that these young men are somebody's children. Some mother or father is going to get a phone call, if they weren't already watching nearby, telling them their child is in jail. I remembered how it felt to stand helplessly while the police led my big brother away in cuffs and how I wanted to protest "but he's not a bad person. He's my big brother. He has a kind heart. Don't take him away."
So all the way home I prayed. I prayed for the young men to let this be the last time they are in cuffs. If they did something wrong or not, I prayed that they find a way out of that life. I prayed for their mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters to have strength and stand by their boys, show them a better way, and help them through this. And I prayed for the poor dog who was probably confused and wondering, "Where are my boys going? Who's this guy in blue? What's happening?" I prayed that the dog is taken home to a family he knows or placed in a good foster home.
I hope my prayers work.
1 comment:
I hope so, too; proof you are a better person than me: I would have led (and ended) with the dog.
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