Victim

So, I think it's about time to tell this story.

I was the victim of a crime.

Wow, that felt weird to type.  Let's start back at the beginning...

So I work as the secretary at our church.  I'm there every morning.  Our church is pretty great.  Well, we like it.  It drives us crazy sometimes and every so often we get disheartened and think maybe we should just leave and find somewhere else that's going to be more supportive of new ideas and have more children's programs and a more lively young adult ministry to feed all of us better.  And then we remember that if we think there should be more of this or that, then WE should be the ones to fix it, not just abandon ship and leave this family to rot.  And so we stay, and work, and become encouraged again that there is hope for this little congregation.  And one of the things this church does well is open its doors to those in need.  We partner with a local special needs school to provide a place for lifeskills training for their students.  Every Thursday, this group of students comes in and gets hands-on experience with cleaning, interacting with the employees here, and they even go grocery shopping and use our kitchen to cook their own lunch.  They are a fantastic group of kids and teachers that really brighten up the week.  I always miss them over the summer break.  

Unfortunately, we're located fairly downtown in a medium sized town with increasing problems with drugs and homelessness.  There's a great place in town where people can go for assistance, but there are always those who just 'work the system' and come around asking all the churches for money.  Some of them are truly in need and some are just looking for money.  My heart is torn about this issue.  Because everyone who comes around asking for money does have a need that is very real to them.  Whether or not the rest of society sees it as a legitimate need is another thing altogether.  Anyway.  We have a policy of keeping our doors locked at all times.  We have a female pastor and female secretary (that's me!) and elderly custodians that are only there 2 days a week or so.  Basically, none of us want strangers wandering through our building.  And it happens when the doors are unlocked.  A lot.  So if the doors could just stay locked all the time, we'd be good to go.  But a lot of people have keys.  A lot.  And most of them just don't understand either how or why to lock the door behind them, even when they're inside the building.  And despite all the education we've been trying to do, the problem persists.

SO... combine all of these facts into the perfect storm.  A Thursday in May, the group of students was here, and the elderly custodian left the back door unlocked.  Now, we all work in a church.  Where the doors are supposed to be locked.  So I had been a little lax with securing my personal belongings.  Meaning that I left my purse sit on my desk.  I spend most of the working day in my office anyway.  But on this particular Thursday, the pastor called me into her office for a meeting that was only supposed to take 5 minutes.  Because the students were there, and I know that sometimes the teachers need to borrow a post-it or a pen, I left my office door open.  You can see where this is going, can't you?  The closed-door meeting with the pastor lasted 45 minutes instead of 5.  Her door doesn't have a window in it - for privacy.  And by the time we got done, it was time for me to head home.  I hopped in the car and drove straight home, but was starving.  So I stopped at the gas station down the street from my house to grab a snack.  I reached in my purse and - yep - my wallet wasn't there.  I picked up my phone (which WAS in my purse, go figure) and called the pastor and had her look around my office.  No wallet.  So then I told her that I knew for a fact that it was in there when I got to work that morning and reluctantly asked her to call the teacher of the special-needs students, fearing that one of them had taken it.  I hate to admit it, but that was my first thought.  I decided not to call the police or the credit card companies because if one of those kids had it, then they weren't going to do anything with it anyway.

So I go home, without my snack, and sit and wait for the pastor to call me back.  She doesn't.  So I tried calling her and get no response.  I even resorted to calling her cell phone.  Nothing.  Now I'm getting worried.  And then my phone rings.  It's the credit card company fraud alert department.  There's been some questionable activity on my card and they want to know if I can verify it.  Well no, I can't.  I didn't go to that pizza place, or that gas station, OR that spa (of all places).  Cancel the card.  Cancel everything.  My wallet was not lost or taken by mistake, it was stolen.  Along with 2 other items from my purse that looked like they could have held money or other valuables.  So now I'm panicking.  I called Andy to try and let him know that all of our cards are cancelled and can't get ahold of him.  He's out in the field and his cell phone battery is dead.  Now I'm panicking and furious.  And Ellie's awake and screaming and I'm still trying to cancel cards.  So I call my mom and have her come over to entertain Ellie while I try desperately to get all the cards cancelled even though I'm not the primary person on the account and no, I can't get ahold of him, and no I don't know my driver's license number because that was stolen too.  Eventually I have to drive to my actual bank branch to close that card because I can't verify my identity over the phone.  I cried the entire time I was there.  The ladies were really nice.

Eventually Andy got home and everything was finished being cancelled.  After they emptied out my personal checking account that I use solely for managing the finances for the music studio.  They went to an ATM.  Which means they had my PIN.  No, it wasn't written on my card and no, it wasn't something that was easy to guess.  Then I had to file the police report.  The officer was super nice.  A blessing, actually.  Christian man, very encouraging, and very empathetic to the situation.  And then we had to pick up all the pieces.  

I ended up writing a bunch of bad checks the week after the incident because the bank told me that the ATM charge didn't 'post', but then it did and wasn't fixed so my account was empty and I wrote checks without knowing that.  So when I got my new card in the mail, I figured I'd check my online account balance before activating it.  It was negative over $300.  I nearly threw up.  It took weeks of careful monitoring and visits to the bank, but I think it's all straightened out now.  I had to buy a new license and still haven't replaced the cute purple 31 wristlet that matched my diaper bag.  

But I'm pretty much over it.  

It's been over two months and everything's totally cool now.  People at church have finally stopped asking me if I've 'found' my wallet (um no, I didn't lose it) and they've been better about the door locking policy.  Life is pretty much back to normal.

Then this past Friday I got a letter in the mail from the District Attorney.  I nearly threw up.  Evidently, they got the guy.  And he's been charged.  Identity theft.  Theft by unlawful taking.  Credit Card fraud.  Well, great.  Right?  I mean, that's what he did, so it's great that he's being charged with it.  Good job, Mr. Policeman.  You got him.

But now I have to be involved.  I have to fill out all this paperwork for the D.A. and the judge to review before sentencing.  I have to list all of my losses.  Ok, that's not too hard.  I have to fill out a paper stating whether or not I agree that he could be granted probation instead of jail time.  Ok, I think I can figure that out.  But then I have to fill out a Victim Statement.

A Victim Statement.  

I guess that means I'm a victim.  The letter even starts with "We're very sorry that you were the victim of a crime."  I never identified myself as that before.  I never even thought of it as a crime.  How stupid is that?  I've just been calling it "the incident" or "that time my wallet was stolen," but never a crime.  It just didn't seem like that big of a deal.  But now I have to write this statement telling all about how the crime has impacted me and how I go about my daily life.  And the worst part?  They're going to read it.  And it will actually matter.  

So what do I say??  

I have no idea.  I mean, yeah it sucked.  But it's not like I was injured or have been harassed or physically threatened.  I'm fine.  Yes, I'm more careful about where I put my purse in my office.  Yes, I shut my (always locked) office door whenever I step out.  Yes, I jump a little every time I hear someone walking through the building and I know I should be alone.  But none of those things are a big deal.  I'm just getting on with life. 

So what do I say??

Dear Judge, 

I'm fine.  Do whatever you want to the guy.  

Love, Heather.

Dear Judge, 

Life sucked for a little bit there.  And 31 retired that print.  Can I have $30 to buy a new wallet?  And the new license cost me $27.50.  And I had a $25 Kohls gift card in there that was a birthday gift that I never got to use.  And a $5 Panera gift card that I was saving for one of those days when you just really need a giant cinnamon roll (which, ironically, was the very day my wallet was stolen).  And $5 cash.   

Love, Heather.

Dear Judge,

I lost sleep just trying to figure out how to fill out this paperwork.  Figure out how much that's worth and then give me that.

Love, Heather.

Dear Judge,

I'm a Christian and Jesus said to forgive those who wrong you.  So I don't want anything from the guy.

Love, Heather

Dear Judge,

My whole church family has been impacted by this crime.  We're all victims.  We're all shocked and unnerved that someone would walk into a place of worship and take something that they would have been given if they had only asked.  Help this man with whatever problem he has and please tell him that church starts at 10 am on Sunday.  

Love, Heather

Seriously.  What do I say??  I only have 28 days left to figure it out.  I wonder if lost sleep accrues interest?