Dwight L. Moody also told this interesting story:
“I heard of a boy who stole a cannon-ball from a navy-yard. He watched his opportunity, sneaked into the yard, and secured it. But when he had it, he hardly knew what to do with it. It was heavy, and too large to conceal in his pocket, so he had to put it under his hat. When he got home with it, he dared not show it to his parents, because it would have led at once to his detection. He said in later years it was the last thing he ever stole.”
When I was a boy, some friends of mine talked me into joining them in breaking into a house. We obtained a hammer, screwdriver and crowbar and walked across the street and around behind the house, trying to gain access through a back window. The house was empty, so there was nothing to steal. It was broad daylight and my friend’s father saw us going across the street, so he followed us.
He grounded his son and sent our other friend and I home. I was the oldest of the three, so he assumed I was the instigator. I was forbidden to play with my friend or visit in his home. Although that was years ago and I have since officiated at both of my friend’s parents’ funerals, to this very day I carry a shame for being identified in that act.
Tell us about your experience with stealing or with guilt.