It's too bad about our species' propensity to too quickly jump to conclusions and over-react.
So I've dug out an old vine post of mine as it somehow relates to the home intruder theme and its challenge to compassion and human decency.
My daughter was born in '90. I wrote this in the late nineties.
[quote user="KeithP"]Surely, there are some decent people out there...
Of course there are, though they're likely not too concerned with blowing their horns about it. But then you are asking about anonymous giving, which is an interesting aspect of it.
I've given anonymously on occasion (besides giving to a charity, because you're always anonymous to the end-line recipient), like putting money in an envelope in the door of someone you know who needs it but are probably too proud to accept it from you.
Then other times you wonder if someone fully appreciates what you've done for them:
I've thought about writing about something for a long time, so I guess now's as good a time as any.
When my daughter was just a few months old, around late November, 1990, her mom and I had turned in for the evening. It was late. If it was before or after midnight, I don't exactly recall, but it was likely after. Our baby was sleeping in her room at the end of the hall, and we were beginning to doze off when Lo, now my ex, shook me to consciousness saying someone came into the house. Sure enough, when I sat up we saw someone go past our door, slightly ajar, and in the direction of the living room, but our daughter's room was also in that direction.
I made an immediate b-line for the kitchen, which this character had just passed through, and to the drawer which held our largest knives. Lo was right behind me when she pointed out that our intruder had not only scaled the child's safety gate which was by our side door, his point of entry, situated at the top of the basement stairway, but he had also removed his boots! ?
I immediately took the knife and started for my daughter's room, but noticed someone lying on the livingroom couch, so there I confronted him. I asked him questions he didn't have answers for and I could easily ascertain his state of inebriation.
Lo had the phone at the ready and was beginning to dial 911 when I made a quick judgement call - I simply told her "don't call the cops." I told her this guy was just drunk and lost and wanted to sleep. So I let him. I told him he could sleep there but to "don't mind me if I sit right here with this knife and watch you all night long" - which I did.
Of course while he slept I took the liberty to snap a photo of him just in case we learned of any strange happenings in our neighbourhood in the following days - there were none.
In the morning we fed him breakfast and coffee, and after he gave some explanation of himself and expressed his gratitude, he went on his way home never to cross our threshhold again.
Funny thing is, we always lock our doors! This was like, the only night ever in which we failed to lock it and, sure enough, and lucky for that fellow, it's the only time anyone has ever intruded into our home.
Now, I certainly don't recommend anyone do what I did, but it was just one of those situations where my instincts, the kid's gate left up, and the fact he'd removed his shoes, told me that this guy was not here to harm us, so I took a calculated risk and opted for compassion over the heavy hand of the law.
Besides, I'd been there before. I'd been so drunk that I trespassed and slept in someone's vehicle, and though I'd gotten out of there before being discovered, I would hope that if I had been, that someone would've shown me the same compassion instead of turning me in to the police. And since God had got me off the hook that time (by waking me at first light) I figured I owed Him one. Well... I owe Him a bunch, actually.