It saddens me to write this, but it may help someone reading this. I have a bad case of Chronic Progress Multiple Sclerosis diagnosed in 1981. I have had care-givers 24/7 for over two years, not fun.

 My wife and I began to suspect my weekend care-giver of stealing money. This past weekend we set-up a sting operation to catch him, it worked. She left $100 in my wallet, five twenties. I was in the bathroom and my wife announced she was going to shower, within two minutes I could hear my dresser draw open and close.

After I went to my bedroom, I discovered $20 was missing from my wallet. Normally I would have fired him immediately, but I needed his help for that day (Saturday) and the following day.

My wife wanted to give him another chance. We were getting ready to go out, and she asked him if he would get my wallet. By the time I got my wallet I was missing another $20. When we got home, my wallet was locked-up.

This young man had worked for me for over a year. He was recommended to me by his uncle that had previously worked for me; his uncle was a very honorable man. The nephew was a good man for a year, until he lost his week day job.

The Saturday this happened, I told him he could leave to have dinner with his girlfriend before the first $20 was stolen. He later asked me if he could take his girlfriend to a movie also, of course I said yes. We had never said no to anything he wanted. Then the other $20 went missing.

We called the police to ask if an officer could be here when I would fire him Monday morning at 8:30 A.M. That's when my weekday care-giver would be here. The police wanted to help in any way possible and ran a check on him, no problems. He was a puppy, so we had no fear of him. Even being in a wheel-chair I though I could take him, if I got him on the ground. With my spouse saying no to that, we had to suffer knowing that this thief was in our home, eating our food and sleeping in our guest bedroom until Monday. I wanted to strangle him or beat him to a pulp, but my MS might not have allowed it. Talk about frustration!

Monday 8:30 A.M. promptly, there was a knock on the door. My wife ran to the door and opened it, a Policeman of descent size entered. He and I talked in my bedroom and she left for work, she didn't want to be there. The thief sat at the kitchen table knowing he was in trouble.

After the officer and I talked (I didn't want to press charges) we went to the kitchen table. The officer asked the care-giver if the two of them could talk in the guest room. They walked to the room and I heard the door shut. Not once did I hear the Policeman raise his voice, he was a professional throughout the entire ordeal.

They came out of the room and the crying care-giver was asked to sit at the kitchen table. The officer told him; "How dare you steal money from this handicapped man that is what you admitted to me!" The care-giver bent over and cried like a baby saying; "I'm so sorry Mr. Stelman."

I told him if he wanted forgiveness he should go to confession, he's Catholic. The only forgiveness from me would be not pressing charges, and I was so disappointed in him. I also said, I never wanted to see him again.

The Policeman asked him if he would like to "man-up" and write in his own words what he had done, and when he would pay me back. Of course it was dated and signed. Before any writing was done, the officer reminded him that he was under no obligation to do this. I was nice and gave him six months to pay; the total amount was not going to change my life style. As he was escorted out he cried and kept saying; "I'm sorry!" With his back turned to me, my frown changed to a smile.

I myself am sorry for a few things.

1- Being sick and needing to depend on a person that was not in my life previously.

2- Being an easy and helpless mark.

3- For my fists, they wanted an introduction to his face.

He wasn’t sorry for what he did, he was sorry he got caught. He told my other care-giver outside, “I am so sorry for what I did to these nice people; I need to get new tires for my car.” Sounds like he was really sorry, doesn’t it?

Now I have to get another weekend care-giver, a wonderful thought.