Thieves Return Stolen Goods After Realizing They Ripped Off Victims Of Sexual Assault
A group of thieves returned a bunch of stolen computers after they realized they had just ripped off a support center for survivors of sexual assault. The resounding response is, “Aww. How sweet.” Is it bad that I’m not touched by this story?
From Salon:
In what could be the nicest (and strangest) story you’ll read all day, a group of thieves who lifted several computers from a Los Angeles office building returned the stolen goods after realizing that they had just ripped off a support center for survivors of sexual assault.
The burglars felt so bad about stealing from the nonprofit that they even included a note of apology, explaining [sic]: ”We had no idea what we were takeing. Here your stuff back we hope that you guys can continue to make a difference in peoples live. God bless.”
Look, I think it’s fantastic that their hearts aren’t black and they were able to realize that stealing from survivors of sexual assault is grosser than gross. But I’m still going to think that all of the people who decided to not wake up and go rob people are better human beings than this group.
I’m probably just jaded because I’ve had and have known so many people that have had stuff stolen; bikes, cameras, computers. I remember how it felt to be in my car after someone broke into it. It’s a really unsettling when someone violates your space and takes your stuff. You can potentially be destroying someone’s livelihood when you take something that isn’t yours. I just find it hard to be touched by this story.
What if it was just a small start-up they were stealing from that still didn’t have the money to replace their stolen goods? How can you just assume that people you are stealing from deserve to be stolen from?
I’d like to teach my children that you don’t steal from people – period. Not that you only steal from the right people. Obviously I am happy the center got their stuff back – the alternative is pretty horrible. I guess I’m just having a hard time being touched by the story. Maybe I’m the one with the black heart.
