“Seek justice; defend widows and orphans." ~ Isaiah
1:17
The 1930’s were times of utter
despair framed by joblessness, homelessness, and desperateness. It’s hard to imagine that such a time ever
existed in America. Fathers were forced
to leave home to look for work elsewhere.
Destitute mothers had few, if any, options to provide for their
children.
The Judge was a colorful character - he loved children and
was known for taking entire orphanages to baseball games. When the newspapers went on strike, he got on
the radio and read the Sunday funnies to the kids.
His night court served the poorest ward of the city. Tonight he peered through wire framed glasses
at a sickly thin woman - her eyes hollow and lifeless. The Depression had left Elaine nothing more
than a skeleton. She’d been charged
with stealing a loaf of bread. The
tattered old woman fought back tears as she told how she’d lost her job; her pregnant
daughter's husband had deserted them and her two grandchildren were starving.
The shopkeeper, from whom the bread was stolen, refused to
drop the charges. "She’s got to be punished, your Honor" the man demanded,
“to teach others a lesson."
The Judge sighed before addressing Elaine. "I can’t
ignore this; the law makes no exceptions.
Ten dollars or ten days in jail!"
But even as he pronounced sentence, he reached into his pocket, removed some
bills and tossed them into his top hat.
"I’ll gladly pay the $10 fine for which this woman is
accused. “Furthermore!” he paused, “I’m charging
everyone in this courtroom fifty cents for living in a city where a poor woman
has to steal food so that her grandchildren can eat. Bailiff, collect the fines and give them to
the defendant!"
City newspapers reported the next day that $47.50 was given
to a puzzled woman who had stolen a loaf of bread to feed her starving family. Fifty cents of that amount was contributed by
the grocery store owner himself. Some
seventy petty criminals, traffic offenders, and
policemen, each of whom paid 4 bits for the privilege of doing so, gave Judge
Brown a standing ovation.
The reporter concluded by adding, “Sympathy says, I'm Sorry" . . . Compassion sees and says, 'I'll
help.”
Do you avoid eye contact with the homeless vet on the street
corner? Do you give him whatever change
you have in your pocket, and thank God you’re not him? Or do you get a wrenching feeling in your gut
that urges you to act?
“Lord, open our eyes that we may see You in
our brothers and sisters. Open our ears
that we may hear the cries of the hungry, the frightened, the oppressed. Open our hearts that we may love each other
as You love us.” (Mother Teresa)
