The Story of Steven

This morning Tom, our neighbor, is being taken away in a police car. We live in the city with a variety of different cultures, nationalities and income levels - usually I love this. But every once in a while you come across a sad story. Steven is my sad story.

When we first moved here Steven was about 8 years old. He lived next door and was a shy boy who always watched what we were doing and would smile at me if I said hello. It was apparent to us that his mom had abandoned him and he was being raised by his grandparents. His grandfather, Tom, who on a sober day was a nice yet very weary man. His grandmother was somewhat of a recluse. In the 10 years we have lived here I think I have seen her maybe 10 times. From what we can tell she is a big drinker as well. They have had a revolving door of kids/grandkids living with them, but the one constant was Steven.

I really felt sorry for him. He didn't seem to ever have any toys. I always saw him playing in or on the dumpsters in the alley. He didn't have a lot of friends come over and he was always at home. It was one of those situations that I wondered how does this poor boy stand a chance in life? Is there anything I can do for him? He had two grandparents raising him, so maybe he was better off than a lot of kids in the city. I felt at that time all I could do was be kind to him when I saw him.

Throughout his teenage years we had a little bit of trouble.He was selling pot so all of a sudden he became the cool kid in the neighborhood. All the kids would sit on the front stoop of his building and drink and smoke. I would regularly ask him to go do it somewhere else. He was always very respectful to me. I ended up calling the police quite often during the summer. I know when we were all teens we did things to test the limits - my problem wasn't that he was doing it, just that he was doing it next to my yard where Aidan played.

I remember Nate telling me a while back that while he was riding home from work he saw him a few miles from home. Steven yelled to him and said "Hi! It's me, Steven!" and was very excited. He just wanted to be recognized.

Steven is now 18. Apparently he got out of jail yesterday. Last night I had to call the police at 11:00 p.m. because he was fighting and beating up his grandfather and his uncle. He stabbed his uncle with a screwdriver. When I spoke with the police officer last night he said "Steven is an animal. He is going to kill someone." It made me very sad. That 8 year old little boy who was abandoned by his mom, played in dumpsters and raised by a drunk grandfather didn't really seem to stand a chance. He must have so much anger built up inside of him - is it really his fault? I know he is an adult now and responsible for his own actions. Do we as neighbors have any ownership in how he has turned out? I'm not sure. I probably could have done more for him. I wish now that I had.

It reinforces to me how important this job is that we have of raising our kids. I thank God every day for the precious gifts that he has given me and hope that on my worst day of parenting (because we all have those!) I am reminded of what blessings these children really are.