What Happened Last Night

For those who aren’t Latter-day Saints, I have to explain “home teaching.”  In my church, the men’s organizations, or priesthood quorums, assign the men a certain number of families (on average, three to five) for monthly visits.  The purpose is to share some spiritual message (it does not have to be long at all; in fact, I try to keep it brief and not overstay my welcome) and to see if there’s anything that they need help with.

Last year, my roommate and I were assigned one particular woman with many struggles but among the sweetest people I know.  Because of move-ins and move-outs, I was reassigned to home teach other people, but my roommate has remained her teacher, as he has for several years now.

So now, the story: I had another Monday off both school and work and I was taking great advantage of it.  Last night, my evening consisted of movies I was finally getting around to seeing.  One was a black-and-white …And Then There Were None (not a great ending) and The Outsiders.  I really enjoyed The Outsiders.  My sister has been trying to get me to read the book by S.E. Hinton and I’ve consistently ignored her in favor of other books.  Watching the movie felt like a good compromise.  I mean, considering how big the book is and who got killed in the movie, I’m fairly certain that the film is a good adaptation.

The film ends with somebody being gunned down, and it was a really shocking but inevitable moment.  It made the hero of the story really shine by the end of it because I believed that he could rise above that crummy neighborhood he was in.

A minute after I hit the credits, I went downstairs for a drink of water.  I was about to go back upstairs and get ready for bed when another roommate asked if I was going to go see this woman I used to teach.  “I don’t know.  What’s up?”

“Her brother’s been shot.”

My first thought was that I had just seen this movie.  My next reaction was to get my socks and shoes on.  I rode out with a small group to see her and her family at the emergency center of the hospital.  We got the story bit by bit, although the details are still sparse for me.  All I know for sure is that he was hit twice in the leg, very near the groin area.  We finally got word that he had to stay at the hospital for three days but he seemed to be stable for then.

Two things stand out to me about last evening: the first is the prayer.  It has been a long while since I’ve participated in a prayer in a public place, although if ever there was an occasion for one, that was it.

The other is how useless I felt.  I don’t wonder about why bad things happen to good people, nor do I wonder about why we feel pain.  But I never know what to say to somebody who’s hurting.  I have to rely on others for that one.

The words I do have, though, are for the one who fired the gun, and for all those who intend harm against the innocents: They who live by the sword die by the sword.  That’s the world they choose to live in.  I would hope they choose to relinquish their weapons and run away from that life before it swallows them whole.  As much as the innocents suffer, they’re the ones who will pay the heaviest price.