Life
Experiences of Bill McDonald
From the Book
"A Spiritual Warrior's Journey"
The Prodigal Son (A Christmas Story)
Several years ago
my son, Josh, who is a police officer, gave me a most wonderful gift. I had
asked him to do a kind deed for the Christmas holidays; then, tell me about it,
if he could, and that would be his gift to me. I really did not want anything
that he could buy me. I wanted him to experience the gift that comes from giving
of one's self. Let me tell you what happened one cold, wet December 25th.
My son had been patrolling in his squad car along U.S. Highway 101,
just up from the Golden Gate Bridge. It was raining and fairly cold outside as
he cruised along looking for any signs of trouble on this Christmas morning. He
was not really that happy about working the holidays, but it went with the
territory. He noticed a young man walking along the side of the freeway. Not
only was it dangerous but also illegal.
He pulled over, put on his lights, and called the young man over to
the car. When the man stood close to him, he could see they were about the same
age. When he checked his identification and had the dispatcher run a check on
him, he found out he was only 22 years old and was on parole. The report said
that he had been out of prison for a couple of months.
Upon questioning, the young man stated that he had no place to go.
He had been living along the freeway, sleeping under overpasses. He was all wet
and very dirty. My son did not want to cite him or gave him a bad time,
especially since it was Christmas morning. He took the guy a short distance off
the freeway so that he might not be in as much danger of getting hit by passing
cars.
He again looked at the report and noticed that the address listed
was no more than two or three miles from where he had been sleeping on the
freeway. The young man told him that it was his parent's house, but they had no
idea where he was or what had happened to him for the last four years. He said
he was afraid to go home and see them since he had been in so much trouble and
had been in prison. He felt much shame and guilt about it. He would rather live
on the streets alone than be rejected by his parents.
My son was not going to let the possibility of a reunion on
Christmas Day slip away. So, he had the man sit in the back of the squad car,
and off they drove. The address was in an upscale Mill Valley neighborhood where
million-dollar homes were the norm. My son located the address of record and
stopped in front of an expensive home. The nervous young man wanted to leave. My
son left him in the back seat and went to knock on the door.
He was not sure what type of reception he might receive. He had
dealt with cases where the parents had thrown out their son and did not want
anything to do with him ever again. He also thought about the possibility that
these people could get upset with him for attempting the reunion. If they called
his sergeant, he could be written up for not following policy and procedures. He
kept telling himself that it was, after all, Christmas Day. He had to at least
attempt to drop off this young man here. He could not bear thinking that this
guy who was about his own age would be sleeping out in the rain on the most holy
of holidays. He knocked on the front door and put his faith and the outcome in
the hands of God.
It was about 7 a.m., and lights came on inside the house a few
seconds after he knocked. The door latches clicked, and an older man stood there
looking at my son in his police uniform. My son quickly got to the point of the
visit. He told the man that he had found his son wandering along the highway and
asked him if it was all right to leave him there.
The man's eyes grew wet as he yelled for his wife to come to the
door. The man shook his head to affirm that it was okay to leave his son. The
parents stood in the doorway, looking at the young man who was looking out from
the back seat of the police car. Everyone was visibly shaken by the turn of
events. They had been sad on this Christmas morning, as they had been for the
past four years, not knowing if their son were alive or dead. They did not care
about gifts or money; they missed their son. Now their prayer for the holidays
was actually coming true.
My son walked back and opened the door to let out the young man. He
walked slowly toward the house. My son watched from the curb as they joined
together in a hug. He could see the love and joy as the three of them cried,
then disappeared inside. He stood there wondering at how it had all turned out.
He got back in his patrol car and sat there for a few minutes. He drove off
knowing that he was going to have that gift of a good deed to tell his dad.
Copyright 2003 - W. H. McDonald Jr.
Josh, Syd, and Spencer McDonald, 2001.
