Theiving

It was glittery , shiny , it caught my eye. I wanted it, but I didn’t want to ask my parents.

I didn’t want to burden my parents, who I already knew did so much for me and my five siblings. “I just wish I could afford one small piece of fools gold”… was the thought going around and around in my seven year old mind.

I looked around to make sure that no one was watching, before I stuck my hand into the fools gold and moved it around in my hands, trying to get a small piece stuck under my fingernails.

“That wouldn’t really be stealing” .. I thought to myself. If it was stuck under my fingernails I would just have one small piece of fools gold to look at later – which was all I really wanted.

I was successful in getting a small piece of the cheap glittery stone stuck under my fingernails. It was summer and the humidity stuck to my hair and my clothes – it wasn’t surprising that something else would stick. As soon as I achieved my goal I could hear my mom and dad calling my name.. “Dot .. hurry up! We are leaving!”

I immediately ran toward the door of the small shop into the summer night air, and as I reach the threshold of the door the thought hits me.. I am a thief. Not wanting to draw attention to the crime I had just committed I continued to follow my parents – never stopping for a second .. but my mind was frozen in time wishing I could go back and undo this crime.

As I exited the store I brushed the tiny crumb of fools gold onto the cobblestone ground. I doubt anyone else even saw that small piece of fools gold laying there, no one could have missed it , no one could have noticed. It was so small .. but so very heavy on my mind.

That small crumb of inexpensive, shiny, rock – smaller than a peppercorn- had been what lured me away from God. My relationship with Him was broken.  I had felt so hopeful and new when I received my first Communion only a couple of months ago and now I knew that my soul was dead with sin. I was a sinner – and the only thing that seemed more unbearable than being a sinner was having to tell another person the horrible thing I did. The thought of it alone made me breathe quickly and my stomach churn.

This night was the first night of an endless battle between my hope and my mind. My hope used to tell me  that I would be okay because I couldn’t think of any “serious” sins I had committed, and now I could think of one.  I knew that all I had to do to be forgiven was to confess my sins, but how could I ever face telling another person – an adult – about the horrible thing I had done. Fear filled my mind and my vivid imagination worked against me in every way.

I imagined an eternity trapped in fire, knowing that it was all my fault because I chose to sin.  I imagined my whole family dying and knowing that I was the only one that didn’t get to join them in heaven. I imagined trying to confess my sin only to have a priest tell me that they could not grant me forgiveness for this sin unless I did some mortifying act as penance. I know that I cried that night, and for many nights after that. I cried knowing that my soul was damned because I had had a moment of weakness, and failed the test that had been set before me.

Children weren’t supposed to steal , or even think about stealing. Children were only supposed to argue with their siblings, disobey their parents or throw a tantrum. How had I committed an adult’s sin at only seven years old? I knew in my heart that I must be evil. I felt evil, and I knew that I was too weak to ask for forgiveness.