What we teach our children

    As we sat and chatted while waiting for our meal to be served, we watched the passersby as they too enjoyed relatively mild weather. One woman in particular caught my eye. She was nicely dressed, walking with her son, who looked to be about 3 years old. Like her, her son was well dressed. She stopped at the empty table next to us and began digging through her purse, as if she was looking for something. For some reason, however, something did not seem right about the situation. As Sandi and I talked, I kept watching the woman out of the corner of my eye. In the course of a couple minutes, she glanced over at us several times.

    A movement near my feet caused me to switch my attention. “Hey!” Sandi yelled as we realized the small child had reached under the table and was attempting to steal the insulated bag, most probably mistaking it for a purse. Reaching out, I snatched the bag out of his hands and looked toward the woman. She had closed her purse and calmly began walking away, ignoring the child, pretending he was not with her. Momentarily confused, the child paused, staring at Sandi and I before he turned, shrugged his shoulders and wandered off slowly down the street, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

    In the meantime, a waiter rushed out of the restaurant and someone leaned out of an office window above the restaurant. “The mother went around the corner!” he shouted, pointing out the direction for the waiter, who went in search of the mother and child. The café owner came out to our table to ask if anything had been stolen and make sure we were all right. “This happens too often,” he said, shaking his head: “The police can't do anything about them. The parents know that, so they train them to steal purses while they are still too little to be put in jail.” The waiter returned, saying that he could not find them and they might have slipped into a nearby office building or hotel.

    In every city of any size around the world, there are thieves, but it is always a shock to see them being trained so young for this type of work. I wonder if that little boy got in trouble with his mother afterwards because he was caught in the act. Because he did not seem worried about being caught, perhaps he was used to it and to him this was just a normal part of his life. Has this child ever had the chance to just be a child? Or, has he been in training since he could walk? And, what, I wonder, will his future be?

    For me, living a life far removed from this mother and her son, I cannot imagine raising my own son to aspire to be a thief -- stealing from others so that I and my family can eat and keep a roof over our heads. What has his life been so far? Do his parents take him to the park and let him play with children his own age? Or, has his childhood been one of continually trying to hone his skills of thievery?

    When I returned home that day, I hugged my own son close, and he looked up at me and asked if anything was wrong. Smiling, I told him that I hoped when he grows older, he will have pleasant memories of his own childhood. Reaching out to touch my face, he nodded as if he understood. I thought about the young boy and his mother. Does she spend time with him, reassuring him, comforting him and making sure he knows that he is loved?

    I know nothing about the woman, her son or the life they lead. Their lives are as foreign to me as mine would probably seem to them. Perhaps she is doing the best that she can for him. For her son, I hope that he has some semblance of what I would regard as a normal childhood. I hope there are moments of sheer joy. I hope that he is loved and valued for the person he is and not just for the money he can bring in for the family. Even though they tried to steal from me, I can't be mad at either of them because I have not walked in their shoes.