Hey reader! If you have not read the events in my previous post entitled "Small Change," stop cheating and start reading! Click here to go to part 1.

For those returning, I left off at about last Sunday afternoon, shortly after I had discovered that one of our little residents had jacked and sold my iPod. I spent the majority of the afternoon talking with my offender, who was crying pretty hard at the beginning of our chat. I asked him if he often steals, and if he had stolen before, and he said that yes, he does and yes, he had. We got out my notebook and I asked him to write down the things he had stolen. He confessed to having taken several toys to school and throwing them away or destroying them. We talked for a long time about his need to change his heart, his need to repent, and his need to make right his offenses in order to be free from them. He needed to actively change his identity. After the end of the conversation I went to relay the contents to Ana, the site's social worker, who quickly informed me of other theft offenses that the boy had not disclosed in our chat.

Re-enter office; interrogation phase 2.

I challenged the kid for lying to me, by telling me that he had only stolen two items before, and omitting a vast number of bigger items, one of which being one of the workers' cell phones, which had been discovered in his pocket one morning in the pre-school pat-down. Then the real disclosure began. He confessed to a long list of offenses, some which he had already been caught and punished for, and others that he had gotten away with. From his list which included money, notebooks, pencils, pants, and candy, we were left with about 20 items that he had never repaid or made right. I told him that his consequence would be to make these things right, and that it would be important that he make as many of these right as he possibly could.

I knew I would need time to decide the finer details of his punishment and I wanted to bounce my ideas off the other staff here, so for Sunday night and Monday morning our thief was confined to his room except for mealtime and study time.

Also, there was the slightest glimmer of hope still hanging on the horizon that my iPod might yet be recovered. One of the staff from our other home in Los Cedros was visiting the orphanage with his wife, and he was the missing ingredient that would certainly be required if we wanted any chance of getting it back: an intimidating Nicaraguan man who is well acquainted with how to get things done "Nica-style".

Now, when I say an intimidating Nicaraguan man, I should really clarify that Joel (ho-EL) is very kind and pretty hilarious. However, one man is worth about a million women around here when it comes to disciplining children, and that intimidation factor and the ability to make a kid stop sassing and start crying was definitely going to come in handy. Joel was optimistic about the possibility that he might be able to get the child customer and his family to return the iPod using a little Nicaraguan muscle power, which he considered may or may not involve greasing a cop to put some legal pressure on the family for a cost of about 100 cords, or the equivalent of 5 bucks. This all, of course, in the very unlikely case that the iPod had not immediately been resold by its new owner for a more appropriate sum.

Sadly, the "rent-a-cop" route proved a road left untravelled, but on Monday morning Joel showed up at the school with the kids and had our little thief point out which classmate had been his customer. The kid said he still had the iPod at home, and so Joel and him walked to his home (with the permission of the school's administrator). Upon their arrival the mom said, "You here for the iPod?" (not in the helpful, honest way you might be thinking, but moreso in the "you think you're getting that back?" kind of way... to which Joel replied that she could go to jail or something similar that apparently worked).

When Joel and the kid returned to the school, my iPod had been reclaimed, and only by the incredible grace of God. In a later phone conversation with one of the missionaries, she told me that expensive things often get stolen and sold here, and nothing has ever come back, so this is a fortunate first for me.

As a side note, one of the possible reasons that my iPod may not have changed hands over the course of the weekends involves an occurance that no one has yet been able to explain. At the school, the kids were saying that the kid who bought my iPod hadn't been able to get into it to use it because it was locked or protected by some sort of password. Of course, since I've never had any sort of password on my iPod before, I assumed the kids were just not bright enough to figure out how to turn off the "lock" feature that keeps an iPod from turning on and running out the battery. However, when my iPod was returned to me, sure enough, the only thing that will now come up on the screen is a picture of a combination lock which requires a four-digit numerical password. Having never known about or used this iPod feature before in my life, I therefore currently have a $300 electronic paperweight that even I cannot use or have access to, until either the point several months down the road when I resync it with my home computer or that magical day when I discover the magic number somewhere between 0000 and 9999. Lovely.

Anyways, having recuperated my (merely decorative) iPod, my thoughts returned to deciding on an appropriate punishment.

This kid is one tough cookie. While he has apologized for the theft, he plays the adults here like a fiddle, which is easy to do when you care far less for them than they do for you. Between his crying, confessing, and apologizing, he has clearly shown that neither his heart nor his nature have changed, having on one occasion declared brazenly that it was "worth it", and on another occasion, that he will most likely steal again. In reality, all he cares about is avoiding harsh consequences however he can, and my heart keeps breaking daily as I become dissilusioned and re-educated by these children.

For some of these kids, here are the facts:
Some of these kids grew up on the streets, and stealing is what they know and how they live.
Some of these kids live here and do just enough to stay and not be kicked out, but never give their heart or open themselves up at all.
Some of these kids have no real ability to bond or connect emotionally as a result of the traumas and experiences of their early lives.
Some of these kids will be well-fed children, and grow up to be strong, healthy criminals when they leave this place, but for the saving grace of God.

This is a harsh but very vital reality here. Their possible fates, in some cases, are far less likely to doctor, policeman, or business owner than they are to be swindler, thief, or manipulator. And every day we can only hope and pray that God may use us to intervene in their hearts and lives, and that God may bless us to teach them well.

My little thief's consequences will involve working long, hard days on Saturday, for about 8 hours, for a period of time representative of the cost of the items that he has stolen. I say "representative" because for him to literally pay the costs of about $360 worth of items off would take him years, regardless of what virtual rate of pay he were assigned. I am requiring him to physically correct whatever of his offenses he possibly can, and so, as he works and accumulates equity against these debts, it is my hope that the orphanage will serve him by giving him or helping him purchase the items that he will need to repay to the people he took them from.

I want his punishment to be as real and as visceral as possible, but over the past few weeks I have gotten a glimpse of how deep his deception runs and how hard his heart has become. Truthfully, we will seek to serve him through good punishments and real consequences, but only God can redeem his life.

No one ever wants to believe such harsh and terrible things about a child, so please know that it isn't easy for me to say or believe these things. I would much rather believe that it was an honest mistake, a foolish choice; that he's a fine boy, with a bright future. But we will serve him well if we will address with honesty and bravery the nature of his heart and his sin.

Yesterday my friend Adam departed from the orphanage to return to the States after three months here, caring for and loving the children of Hogar Amiguitos. He went to all the boys' rooms at bedtime to give each one of them one last hug. My resident thief, after recieving his hug, looked Adam straight in the eye and in perfect English told him, "I want money."

Adam told me later that evening that his response flew out of his mouth before he could stop it; his limited Spanish cut right to the heart of the issue as he told the kid "Tu tienes un corazon negro;" "you have a black heart."

Adam felt bad that these would be his last words to the child; felt he had been too harsh; didn't know why he had chosen the words he did; but I honestly feel that his choice of words were perfectly selected by God Himself. There are far worse things that Adam could have said, in my opinion, to a shamelessly selfish boy, than the devastating truth.

If you have a few moments, and your faith moves you, would you please take a few moments to pray for the heart of my little 11-year-old thief? He is, as are we all, in desperate need of Christ's saving love.