Confession and Redemption by J. Bryant Ray (ebook reader with highlighter txt) 📖

guessing that most of my friends are experiencing similar responses as their parents confront them with the gory details! Stories of lives lost, dogs gone astray, property ripped from its foundation and strewn about like debris from a terrible weather incident.
Somehow, in my twisted way of thinking, I come up with; “if we added a line about a trailer and a pick-up truck, we would have the makings of a good Country song!
I have no idea where this sarcasm comes from; this is serious stuff! It wouldn’t be the first time my thoughts came out of my mouth and got my ass in trouble!

PUNISHMENT:
It was a very long and sleepless night; however, when I awoke the following morning I actually felt a little better. I guess that confession is actually good for the soul; I was both relieved and a bit puzzled that I had not received the beating I had anticipated. We ate breakfast without saying a word; I suppose my Dad didn’t know quite what to say. Sometimes the silence is much worse than receiving the punishment.
It seemed that it took a lifetime for 2:00 PM to finally arrive, I had this sick feeling in my stomach, as my Mom and I drove to the post office to meet Dad; at 1:45 PM we walked directly to the upstairs meeting room. There I saw my other team members; Paul was there with his Dad, he had a fresh mark on his face and a swollen left eye. Bill was there with his grandfather. Bill was still sniffling. Joe was sitting across the table flanked on either side by his Mom and Dad; they looked upset. Ralph was there, alone; my guess is his Dad was hung over as usual and his Mom was probably too beat up to appear in public.
In a few minutes the Sheriff came in along with Mr. Wilkins. The local Postmaster, Billy Boyd was also in the room. Mr. Boyd was my Sunday school teacher, I was immediately further embarrassed by what I had done.
I thought to myself; “How could I have been so stupid?”
The Sheriff spoke; “thank you for arranging your schedules to attend this meeting. I have spent the morning talking with a number of the families along Route 446; You boys made quite a mess out there, lucky for you that most Saturday mail delivery is circulars, and promotional pieces, the so called ‘junk mail’.
Mr. Wilkins rises to speak; “my name is Thomas Wilkins, I am the Southern Regional Director for the US Postal Inspection Service; my responsibilities include; fraud, theft and acts of terrorism as they apply to the safety of the US Mail. My office is in Jacksonville, FL. When I received the call from Postmaster Boyd I assumed this would be a routine investigation, we would interview witnesses, ask the sheriff to interrogate suspects, find the responsible parties and proceed with a court date. Cases of this type typically result in convictions, fines and, in certain cases, incarceration. My job is pretty routine and at times monotonous. However, sometimes a case seems different from the beginning; this is one of those cases.”
He takes a sip of coffee and continues; “you boys have shown a remarkable amount of maturity in the way you have taken responsibility for your actions. Rarely do I see this reaction; more often than not the case develops into an exercise of finger pointing eventually being settled by the courts at a great deal of cost to both sides. In these cases the only winners are the attorney’s. I see this case as a bit different. It is clear to me that while damage was done and property was lost, I don’t sense the anger and thoughts of retribution that normally accompany similar situations. I actually believe that a valuable lesson is here for the taking; that is the course I would like to pursue this afternoon.”
I raise my hand, like a schoolboy asking permission to speak.
Sheriff Crawford says; “what is it son?”
I stand at my seat and begin; “I know that we have done a very terrible thing, it all started without any thought of the outcome. I know these guys as well as anyone including my family; as a group and individually I believe we are truly sorry for what we have done. I would like to make a suggestion if I might.”
Mr. Wilkins says; “go ahead son, what is your suggestion?”
I look at Paul, Joe and Ralph; “I would like to propose that we replace the individual mailboxes for each of the ones that we destroyed. Hopefully this small gesture will be received as our way of apologizing for a minute of foolish mischief that went terribly wrong.”
Postmaster Boyd rises; “I believe that you boys are truly repentant for your actions. However, before we start down this path, I want to ask that each of you agree to go see each family and make the suggestion directly. Then, and only then, do I believe this situation can be resolved.”
Mr. Wilkins looks around the room; “I need to hear from each of you.”
Paul says; “yes sir, I agree with Tommy.”
Joe is next he raises and looks directly at Mr. Boyd; “sir, I am deeply sorry for having taken part in this act. I know that you are a Sunday school teacher and all, and I don’t attend church with any regularity, but I want to make this right.”
Bill Bedford looks up and says; “I’m sorry for what I did and I will accept whatever you think is fair punishment.”
All eyes are focused on Ralph Ferguson.
Ralph stands, wiping his nose he begins; “I am sorry that my Mom couldn’t be here, she isn’t feeling too good today but, she told me that no matter what, I had to do the right thing. Yesterday I was trying to be a tough guy, trying to show my buddies that I couldn’t care less about a bunch of mailboxes. Who cares about a few pieces of tin and some unwanted mail lying on the ground anyway?”
I’m thinking; “Ralph, you’re about to blow it! Shut-up Ralph before you get us all in more hot water with Coach and everyone else!”
Ralph continues; “I had a tough time sleeping last night, before yesterday I wouldn’t have given what we did another thought. When we turned Paul’s car around, it was my intention to go back down the road and finish off any mailboxes that we had missed. I was all about trying to perform additional destruction; I guess I was releasing some of the anger that has been inside for quite a long time. When I saw what we had done, it was kind of like looking at the results of a storm or something, Usually you think of a storm as being a natural thing, something that can not be controlled; what we did, the destroying of property for no reason except for the pure enjoyment of having done it; well that got to me, for the first time in my life I realized that I can control my anger, I can channel it to something more useful. I credit Coach Carter for having shown us that we can accomplish things. Yesterday Coach dismissed me from the team, I wasn’t angry, I felt defiant! Today it’s much different, I agree with Tommy.”
A long silence filled the room. I could hear throats being cleared, faint sighs, mixed with coughing and sniffles. Kind of like after the preacher finishes his sermon, perhaps more like the end of a summation to the jury by the prosecution; sort of a that’s that, its in your hands now!
The Sheriff rises; “OK then, it’s settled. I want you boys to come to my office tomorrow morning at 8:00, we will drive out to each family and speak with them, I want them to see your faces and hear from your mouths what has been discussed here this afternoon.”

REDEMPTION:
We drove with Sheriff Crawford out to the various homes whose property we had destroyed without provocation. I had gone by the local building supply and picked up a catalog of mailbox styles and colors. One by one we knocked on the doors each of us taking turns speaking to the families, offering them a choice of color and style. In some cases the mailboxes had been returned to their original spot but mostly the damage was still visible; the dents, dings and marks of the stones that were thrown were still there; signs of what we had done. Accomplishments of a once harmless prank that turned to something more sinister; however, with only a few exceptions, our plan was met with agreement of the families.

All in all we had to replace 25 individual mailboxes. The owner of the local building supply was a big booster of sports for the high school. He agreed to sell us the mailboxes at dealer cost, even volunteering to allow us to ‘work off’ the cost at the store that summer.
For the next couple of weekends we proceeded to replace the mailboxes one by one; some families pitched in to help, others provided plenty of iced tea and water as we made our rounds to each location. I shall never forget this experience as long as I live. One particular family still has a place in my heart. Their name was Simpson, there’s was the one mailbox that Ralph had referred to as a piece of tin nailed over a 2X4. When Ralph and I approached the house we were met by a gaggle of kids; most without shoes and none appearing to be beyond the age of five. We looked in and saw the father, he was in a wheelchair watching TV; in a couple of minutes the mother came to the door, she was wearing an apron and wiping her hands, asked if we would like something to drink.
Ralph replied; “no ‘Mam, we are here to replace your mailbox; we have white or black, do you have a preference?”
The lady replied; “either one will do, all we get is bills anyway.”
We thanked her and walked down to the highway. We took special care to make sure this mailbox was placed the proper distance from the edge of the roadway and that it was plumb and set in concrete. We even placed adhesive letters “Simpson” on either side of the mailbox. Someone later placed a few flowers around the perimeter of the new, shiny mailbox; I suspected Ralph.
Ralph and I often think of the Simpson family and each time we pass their house on the way home from the golf course we take up a collection among ourselves leaving a little surprise in that mailbox. It makes us feel good that we did the right thing, especially for the Simpson’s’. At least not everything they receive in their mailbox is a bill!
For the next several years, each Thanksgiving and Christmas, we’ve collected food, toys and clothing for the Simpson family, always leaving them on the front porch in the dead of night!
If CONFESSION is good for the soul, then REDEMPTION is truly good for ones character!”