Time-Payment Plan Cures Petty Thief

I was about 8, when I saw this necklace at Knickerbocker's dime store in the little town I grew up in.

Every day after school, I walked home past the window of that store and gazed on the necklace that I thought was the most beautiful thing in all the world. It was a cross with colored glass chips embedded in it. Actually, it was kind of gaudy looking now that I think about it, and since I didn't know anything about the meaning of the cross, I'm surprised that I was so attracted to it.

Anyway, day by day, I began to covet that necklace. One afternoon I decided I'd just go in and take a closer look. It was even more beautiful up close. The two clerks that ran the store were busy in the back so it was easy for me to pocket the necklace and walk out of the store without being seen. (At least not seen by the store clerks.) I ran all the way home, and hid the necklace in my sock drawer.

To this day, I don't know why I took the necklace. It was flashier than most jewelry I would normally have chosen--if we had ever had enough money to choose any jewelry in the first place. I knew I couldn't wear it without my parents or sisters noticing it. All I could do with it was take it out and look at it when I was alone in the bedroom I shared with two sisters, which wasn't very often.

Weeks passed before my mother, while putting a pair of socks in the drawer discovered my secret. Not being one to mince words, she marched out on the porch where I was playing a board game with a friend, held it up, and said, "And where did this come from Missy?" (Her loving nickname for me didn't sound so loving this time.)

I had already been feeling a bit guilty by then, and had given some thought to sneaking the necklace back into the store on my own, but getting exposed in front of a friend was really devastating. We stayed friends, but I always felt like she didn't really like me as much after that.

Well, the upshot of the whole thing was that more humiliation followed. My mother marched me---and the necklace back to the store, made me confess to the manager and apologize, and arranged for me to pay the necklace off in installments of ten cents a week, in person. That meant I had to face the manager every week for several months.

I never liked Knickerbockers much after that, and avoided looking in their window no matter what was on display. I did learn a valuable lesson about stealing, but I never wore the necklace, not even once.