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| Enjoying the flower and herb market in Piazza Cavour. |
Yesterday morning we awoke early to greet our floor repair man, set to repair our buckled floors from last winter. We had been prepped that we'd need to vacate the apartment for at least 6 hours so that the refinishing and varnish could dry. This perfectly coincided with our first staff meeting of the year, and we had planned to grab breakfast as a family before biking across town with Finn and Bear in tow.
Running surprisingly on time we bustled down our stairs, arms loaded for the day and started loading up the bikes. As I back mine out of the rack I noticed that my left pedal was missing?! I was sincerely confused. Petty theft in Italy and many places overseas is fairly rampant. We've been joyfully impressed that we've managed to retain our same bikes for so long!
Though many of our Americanisms have left us in our life abroad, justice has not. We were angered and violated and irritated and put out. Since my bike chain was still happily locked in place, we knew the thief was in our apartment building. Conveniently all the bikes are parked together. A quick scan among the bikes at the rack quickly located the matched pedal on a different bike. Since my bike is so old and janky, we were positive my pedal had found a home on this fellow's bike.
The bike was adorned with a pizza carrier on the back of the bike. We quickly assumed that he had swiped the pedal in desperation before his shift. No matter the circumstances, we were mad. And going to be late. And mad some more. Alex grabbed some tools from our apartment and tried to retrieve the pedal to no avail. We had noted that the entire pedal and brace had been swapped and that the thief had left the brace of his former pedal in my basket (further proof this happened where my bike was parked). As the clock ticked, our stomachs grumbled, and Bear and Finn got antsy, we realized we didn't have the adequate tools to remove my pedal from his bike. So we knocked on the suspected culprit's door.
Our apartment building is small and we know or recognize most of our neighbors. The bottom floor apartment is merely a room and bathroom with only a small window peering out into the public hallway and staircase. A friendly immigrant gentleman lives there and he often is hosting friends or temporary roommates. All are immigrants and most are pizza delivery men.
We knocked on the door (full blown ticked at this point) and knowingly waking the occupants after their late night pizza shifts. Our neighbor we know answered the door. After some 'discussion' he identified that the bike was his friend's and he remained a liaison between us and him for the duration of the conversation. We weren't sure the man inside spoke Italian.
Ultimately as we got more upset, the man came out and acknowledged that this was his bike. He said he had purchased the bike yesterday from a man on the street. Highly doubting this fact, we probed further, angrily, trying to get the man to simply use whatever tool he originally used to replace my pedal.
We were late! We had to leave! This was wrong! Fix the pedal!!!!
In the midst of asking how he had removed the pedal initially, he lit up a cigarette in Alex's face. I yelled at him for doing so in front of Finn and me (being pregnant). He seemed truly apologetic. He agreed to walk the bikes with Alex to a nearby bike shop to have them replace my pedal. He continued to claim he didn't have the tools to.
I urged Alex to hurry after him as I feared he'd ride off and we'd lose my pedal for good.
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| We are foreigners in a foreign land too. |
As we walked the long jaunt to staff meeting Alex explained what had played out. They walked together to the bike shop. He knocked on the door. The bike shop owner came out and yelled at the man and left. Alex walked on with him and he located a friend. He brought the friend back with Alex to the bike shop. Upon seeing these two immigrant men (not Alex) the owner yelled at them and slammed the door in their face. Alex said he looked dejected. The pedal heister assured Alex he would have the pedal back on later in the day.
But as Alex explained the story and I got to relive it, something happened. Jesus. Empathy. Conviction. Realization. As mad and angry and violated as we had felt, we realized that this man's entire life is wrought with this things. He was turned away as a paying customer just because of his nationality. He works late hours delivering pizzas making scant wages and sleeping on mattresses on the floor with other grown men in a dungeon of an apartment. Likely he's educated with a wife and family back in his country.
We talked as we walked. What would Jesus have done in this scenario? Well, Alex exclaimed-Jesus would've given the guy the whole bike. Dang. What sin. We had yelled in anger. An anger we viewed as righteous! Over a bike pedal. We want to show the love of Christ to our neighbors, our friends, students on campus-what an absolutely lame excuse we had been. We prayed aloud as we walked seeking God's forgiveness for our anger and the blindness of missing the opportunity we had in our midst.
31 “But when the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit upon his glorious throne. 32 All the nations will be gathered in his presence, and he will separate the people as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. 33 He will place the sheep at his right hand and the goats at his left.
34 “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the world. 35 For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. 36 I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.’
37 “Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? 39 When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’
40 “And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’ Matthew 25
We made it to staff meeting and carried on with our day. When the 6 hours past and we were allowed back in our apartment, we checked the bike-no pedal. Alex went to lacrosse practice last night-no pedal.
We weren't surprised, but we weren't upset either. We'll pick a new one up today. No big deal.
As Alex left to join our team to pray for the campus this afternoon, I exclaimed "grab me a new pedal on your way home." He called me 5 minutes later. Worried something had happened so quickly, I wiped the dishes suds off my arms and grabbed the call.
"Your pedal's back."
"Huh?!?!?!"
"It's completely back, no issues at all. The guy was actually down there. I talked to him. He apologized profusely in English. His name is Babba."
Whoa. We rejoiced on the phone together that God had given us a new opportunity with our neighbors. They'll be receiving some baked goods and an apology note from us this afternoon. We're so excited and encouraged and overwhelmed by God's grace. And it's a grace so strange and wonderful that it replaces bike pedals and repairs cross cultural riffs. I know what it feels like to be a foreigner, an immigrant, a stranger. Jesus' empathy stretches to me as it does to Babba. His love and grace does too. What a sweet gift to get to see that.
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