Dearest Car Thief,
I want to thank you for taking the time out of your busy day, full of B&E’s, to focus on my vehicle. I can’t imagine how full your schedule must be, and for you to choose my little car out of all of the others to put your dirty little hands on? I’m not sure how to express my feelings.
But I’ll try.
I work full-time outside of my home, work as a freelance writer inside of my home, my husband works, we have a family, we cut coupons and save our change and we still can’t seem to make ends meet.
So when I came out of work, drove home, and had my husband (who works incredibly hard at a labour intensive job) pointed out that someone had actually used their hands and attempted to gain entry into my vehicle while I was working, pulling my door away from the frame, I was astonished.
Why would someone do that?
What do you do for a living?
Are you struggling?
What was in my car that you needed?
The 40 pennies in the tray that aren’t even in circulation in Canada anymore? The Little People in the back seat that keep my daughter happy while I drive her to daycare each morning? My empty coffee cup?
I am raising my daughter to share, and along with this lesson I am also teaching her that when something is left on the street by another person we Leave. It. Alone.
Because it’s NOT OURS.
My car is not yours.
You do not make the payments on it every month; pay the insurance; change the oil. You didn’t fix the rim when I hit the pot hole, or pay for the $800 worth of work I just had done on it.
But for some reason you believed you were entitled to my property.
If you want a car of your own go to work, make some money, save it, and then buy a car.
And when you do and I see it sitting on the side of the road?
I won’t touch it.
Because it’s not mine.
And that’s what responsible adults do.