Sometimes I wonder if my life was written by the Greeks. An ironic tragedy yet to come to it`s pinnacle of ultimate demise. Other days I think they`ve painted me a comedy for their own amusement.
Either way, at least I`m entertaining.
I haven`t done research on this, no in-depth studies, not even a poll but I think I that on average with the general populous I have been a victim of theft at an unnaturally high [nigh unfathomably high] rate. This past week I went to take my recycling out to the back curb and upon opening the garage door find a gaping empty space where I had left two bikes and MEC trailer the day before. I have been met with this scene of life before. Different picture but similar theme. It always seems to happen when you're just going about your life, you walk into a home, a workplace, a parking spot or [as in this case] a garage and are greeted with that sinking sickening feeling that something`s not right. Then your brain puts the pieces together. Before you can think to yourself that having your stuff stolen is unfortunate but perhaps not on the level with Grecians sense of drama I should expand upon the circumstances.
We don't make a lot of money. I'm ok with that. We also have a lot of student debts which I'm not so excited about. It wouldn't be far off to say we're poor. If fact we are by the very definition in poverty. However,with money gifted to us we bought a $400 stroller/bike trailer. The one thing I heard from experienced mothers trying to get by on a tight budget was that they wished they had just put out money for a good stroller right at the beginning because in the end they spent just as much or more on a multiple of strollers that not only broke but didn't work well while in use. So we bought a good stroller and we bought it brand new so that we would be covered by a warranty [too bad warranties don't cover theft]. So we had done our due diligence and bought invested wisely. When summer was coming we began dreaming of getting bikes and being able to tow Kalam around the city in our versatile stroller/trailer getting exercise fresh air and adventure. Money was tight so we were stuck with searching Kijiji for used items. Again, I'm ok with that. It took a little time but we got a bike for me that worked well and a few weeks later we got a bike for free for Nolan. The trailer was on and I took Kalam out for the first time. With my phone in my pocket. In my shallow little summer shorts pocket [though they weren't hoochie mama or anything it's just that shorts pockets aren't really very deep]. We had biked a lazy indirect course for the splash park and sometime later I went to check the time [on my phone... I lost too many watches. hmph.] The phone of course was lost and despite my best efforts to retrace my route I could not find it. I wasn't terribly upset, I hated that piece of junk. It was a cheap pay-as-you go type phone Rogers gave me because it was the only free option that wouldn't extend my contract after I broke my last phone [also hmph...]. Someone at Rogers told Nolan just a few days before that that I was eligible to replace my phone. So no big deal maybe I'll even be able get something fancy. Except Rogers got it mixed up. Nolan was eligible, and his phone is on the fritz [so he needs it]. I would have to pay $160 to replace my phone. To replace my crappy bottom of the heap junk phone. My c'est la vie attitude was quickly dissipating. The real kicker is however that while I was busy looking for my phone I forgot to flip the latches that lock our garage door. So later on the lovely neighbourhood kids who frequent the back alley just rolled open the garage door [because they just walk around checking to see who might have forgot to lock up] and took our bikes and trailer.
Since Nolan and I have come to Winnipeg five years ago we have been the victims of theft once per year. We've had our car broken into twice, broken into and stolen on another occasion, our home broken into and now our garage. The first few times people who are acquainted with our ministry in Winnipeg tell us that we must be doing something very good for the kingdom of God to make Satan mad enough to try and hurt us. Lately it just feels like Satan thinks I'm an easy target. Like those bullies on the bus who told me I was fat everyday of my life because they knew it would make me cry.
At first I was angry just because this just keeps happening to us. It just seemed so dammed unfair that despite all your best efforts you're shafted at every opportunity. Then you start to wonder if it's not just annomaly, maybe there's something that makes you an easy target. It's not like I have loads more than other people or that what I have is better. Most of what we have is hand outs and second hand. Perhaps there's just an aura around our belongings that says 'These people are suckers. Take their crap'.
Then there's the guilt.
The guilt that I left the door unlocked.
The guilt that I insisted on buying new instead of used
[not that I would have any extra money to buy another trailer if we had though].
Guilt that losing material objects can make you so very upset.
At a certain point all the emotions and thoughts cripple you and leave you with a kind of defeat that makes you cry out like David. Wondering why if this is what you are supposed to be doing why doesn't God just give you a little relief.
Nolan had driven around the neighbourhood for a long time looking for some indication of where our things might have gone and talked to people who usually are keenly aware of happenings in the area, but he didn't find anything. Some people never know what happened. And I felt like that would be the case for us. However, when I drove to the grocery store later that day that I noticed a group of kids hanging around on bikes by the little convenience store a few doors down. On an off chance I drove slowly by scanning each bike and picked out one we had just bought for me second hand. Sans the trailer. I raced around the block, ran to the house to get my big intimidating husband and sent him off down the street. We found the kid who took our things and when he took off on my bike we still had his friends and witnesses. The convenience store owner knew where he lived, one of the kids told us his name. We went to his house and spoke to his mother. Pleaded with her to help us. We found the other missing bike but nothing else. Some days later we fond the other bike just laying around the yard, but it wasn't until weeks later that the mother stopped Nolan on the street to tell him what happened to the trailer. The boy had taken it to the sister's house where her boyfriend took it to the pawn shop. We're hoping it will still be returned. A detective is following up and hopes that since we won't press charges we just want our trailer that they will be more willing to return it to us. Either that or we figure out the guys name and go to the pawn shop ourselves. Every pawn shop takes detailed information with everything they buy for situations just as these. If we know who brought our trailer in the Pawn Shop will have to return it to us [I guess after that it is up to them to persecute the person for the losses]. Also we've been told by his friends that the boy is feeling remorseful. I hope the feeling lasts long enough to have a favourable outcome.
And in the midst of the aftermath a friend called me up to say that a Rogers store called them up to tell them they had my phone and could they get me to call them. My crappy bottom of the heap junk phone somehow made it to a very different part of the city with barely any scratches.
I feel like there might have been a point to all this. There usually is with Greek tragedies. I can't put a finger on the moral of this story. Then again morals are usually meant for the audience.