A friend of Brian Doyle’s who sold olive oil left ten bottles in her unlocked car overnight. When she checked the next day, the oil was gone. Angered, she left a note on the windshield to shame the thief.
The next morning there was an apologetic note. He had a drinking problem, the thief wrote, and thought the bottles contained wine. Her note was a wake-up call for him to deal with his problem, and he was grateful to her. All ten bottles of oil were sitting on her fence.
Brian’s friend was touched by the whole story, so she told all her friends—some of them were also moved, some thought she should have called the police. As she sold the oil, the restaurant that bought the last bottle placed such a huge order for more that she bought a bottle of bubbly cider to celebrate. She left the cider in the car, which, again, was not locked. In the morning, the bottle was gone.
Brian’s impulse was to snarl at her about not locking her car; her impulse was to write another note to the thief. Brian thought about St. Paul. “Christ in you,” said the former Saul, “the hope of glory.” When she finished her note, she headed out to put it on the car, and Brian watched her, sprightly and irrepressible. He realized that, with her faith in the least of men, she was inarguably closer to the Light than he was. A lesson learned.