A ball sat under a bush in my front yard for weeks and weeks. Today, it does not.

I am embarrassed that I don’t know precisely when the ball appeared under the bush. It could have been there for mere moments before I noticed it. It could have been there for days. Who knows. But, however long the bright green and impossible to not notice the ball sat there, I eventually did see it.

I decided it was a neighbor’s ball, so I continued to leave it. The ball was bright green, so seeing it would not be an issue. Eventually, someone would notice it and reclaim it. It is, after all, the way of the world.

Today though, a young man walked by the bush and the ball. The latter did not escape his attention, and he grabbed it up. He examined it carefully and bounced it on the street. He looked around, and this is how I knew it wasn’t his ball. It was clearly the first time he had seen it, and he wanted to see if anyone saw him pick it up.

I did.

The young hoodlum, for this is now what he is, failed to notice me. He looked around again. Clearly, he needs to be more confident in his thieving ways. 

He walked on, now with the ball that was not his.

Why do I comment? Because in the end, it was just. plain. wrong. And he knew it. That’s the troubling part. He took what was not his for the sake of momentary amusement. It served no purpose for him. Yet, he was willing to deprive someone else of the ball’s pleasure.

He will grow up, and perhaps he will be an older hoodlum. I hope not. I sincerely hope he reflects on his ways and finds his moral compass. I hope he grows into a fine, upstanding person who one day leaves a ball under his bush, waiting for its rightful owner.

I am not, alas, optimistic.