This thief got an unexpected Mother’s Day surprise. In the heart of a bustling city, a thief carefully marked his next target — a wealthy household brimming with prosperity. The security door of the house was splattered with colorful advertisement flyers, a clear indication of the homeowner’s extended absence. With the ease of years of practice, he turned the lock and stepped into the house as if it were his own.
His eyes swept across the spacious living room, taking in the array of home appliances. Notably, many were high-end foreign goods. He felt a spark of anticipation — this raid was going to be lucrative. His experienced gaze then shifted toward the bedroom. This was where the real treasures usually hid.
Suddenly, a woman’s voice came trembling from the bedroom: “David? David, is that you?” An elderly woman stumbled out, barely missing a collision with him. He felt a jolt of surprise and his instinct was to bolt. But before he could react, the old woman had already clasped his arm.
It was Mother’s Day
Gently, the woman traced his face, from the bridge of his nose down to his lips. Her voice trembled with joy: “David, it truly is you. You came to see me on this special day, didn’t you?” Her words gradually sank in; she was blind. She had mistaken him for her son, David. He glanced at the calendar on the wall — it was Mother’s Day. The lonely woman was undoubtedly yearning for her absent son.
The thief remained silent, then gave a short grunt in agreement to sustain the ruse. The conversation flowed freely from there. The elderly woman spoke of David, who she hadn’t seen for over half a year. Their last meeting had been during the New Year. The thief responded occasionally, aware that he didn’t need to alter his voice. The blind woman didn’t seem to notice any difference.
As the afternoon sun lingered in the sky, the elderly woman kept chattering, sharing stories about her son. The thief learned about David’s position as a department head in the city. He was constantly busy, his life resembling a car on a high-speed freeway with no pit stops.
As dusk approached, the thief grew restless. An unexpected “mother” had become a part of his day, complicating what was supposed to be a quick and simple burglary. Sensing his impatience, the woman asked if he was thinking of leaving. He mentioned the setting sun and falling temperature, then promised to visit again when he was free.
Just as he was about to leave, someone knocked at the door. The old woman asked him to see who it was. He peered through the peephole, spotting a delivery man holding a package. Breathing a sigh of relief, he took the package and helped the woman open it.
Inside were a gift, a stack of shopping vouchers, and a note. He read out the note from David, expressing regret for being too busy to visit and offering the vouchers for the woman to buy anything she wanted. They both fell silent.
Eventually, the old woman confessed, her voice weak and wavering: “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to deceive you. I’ve just been so lonely and desperate for someone to talk to. I had to pretend to be blind; otherwise, you wouldn’t have stayed. My son…he’s not really a son anymore, just a stack of gift certificates.”
Moved by her confession and sincerity, the thief found himself comparing her situation to his own mother’s. What if his mother knew her son was a thief? How heartbroken would she be?
Refusing to accept the vouchers she offered him, the thief felt a sudden urge to change his life. But he was still a thief, and his code dictated that he couldn’t leave empty-handed. At that moment, he noticed a piece of paper lodged in the door crack — it was a “Help Wanted” ad. He casually picked it up, tucking it into his pocket as he said his goodbyes.
“Ma’am, take care of yourself. I’ll visit again when I have the time,” he assured her as he walked out the door.
For the first time, he left a house he had broken into without stealing anything of material value. The paper in his pocket seemed weightless, yet it carried a profound significance. He had entered the house as a thief, but he was leaving as a man reconsidering his choices and his future.
This encounter wasn’t just an unexpected distraction — it was a life-changing moment. The thief was grateful for the unexpected turn his day had taken. With the ad in his pocket, he walked away from the woman’s house, his heart filled with newfound hope.
It wasn’t treasure or trinkets that he took away from this heist; it was the realization that even a thief has the potential to change. And perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t too late for him either. As the sun set behind him, he stepped into the dusky twilight with a piece of paper and a glimmer of a different life.
Translated by Elaine
