“Love is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” 1 Corinthians 13:5
This week one my boys stole a large amount of money out of my wallet. It happened while I had my HIV+ boys over for snack. We were all sitting at the table out in the common area of the building I live in. One of them asked to use the bathroom in my house. While in my house, he went into my bedroom and took about 3,000 metaci out of my wallet, which is equivalent to $120. I didn’t discover that the money was gone until later that night when I went to pay for my dinner at the Chinese restaurant in the city.
I immediately phoned my friend Brooke, another missionary at the center. I told her the two boys that I suspected. One of them lives in the dorm that she oversees and the other one in mine. In the back of my head I totally knew it had to have been the boy from her dorm because I thought for sure I could trust my boys! After all, these are the boys that I have over to my house for snacks three times a week. They love to help me bake or to carry my groceries into the house. These are the boys that I had just taken out to dinner in the city a week ago. We spend tons of time together. They would never steal from me.
Brooke confronted both of the boys and they both denied it. When I returned to the center, I spoke to Manuel, one of the older youth who works in my garden, about the money because he had been working in the garden at the time the money would have been stolen. Manuel immediately knew which of the two boys I suspected had done it because he had seen that boy at a little shop outside the center buying cokes and snacks for his friends in the dorm. Sure enough it was the one I thought for sure was innocent . . . one of my boys.
Twenty minutes later, Manuel and some of the older youth showed up at my house with the boy. I opened his school bag and found 2,200 mets ($88). At first he claimed he didn’t know how the money got there but after a bit of badgering from the older youth he confessed to having stole it.
Love is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs. I’ve had to remind myself of this truth as I’ve gone through the emotions of being angry at the injustice done against me, disappointed in this boy, sad that he had broken my trust. Yet I choose to love. And love is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrong.
In the end, this boy was sent home for two weeks as his punishment. Maybe you’re confused. If he has a home why is he living at the center? Because his home consists of a mother dying of AIDS. Just before he left, I saw him on the playground and his one question was, “Mana Sarah, can I still come to your house when I return in two weeks?”
Love keeps no record of wrongs.