Moral Lesson About Stealing Novels & Stories

“Money isn’t that important.” “To some people it is,” I replied. “I’ve seen men go to prison for life because they stole less than twenty dollars. A thief doesn’t know how much money his victim is carrying, as a rule. Sometimes the victim resists, and dies, and the thief ends up with pocket change and a life sentence. Greed is its own punishment.” “I hope Janet Collins gets hers,” Aurora said quietly, hugging her mother. She glanced at me. “I suppose it will be in all the papers?

In Tommy's room, faced with the officer's gentle but unavoidable questions, five-year-old Tommy sobbed as he spoke in broken pieces. "I really pity Joy. I stole money once to buy cards, and I got caught. Mom didn't hit me. Instead, she called Joy over and made Joy steal Mrs. Grant's purse from next door. Mom said she wanted to show me what happens to thieves; that they get arrested by the police." "Joy refused, so Mom pinched her and threatened her. Later, Joy ran away and really got caught by the police, and Mom made me watch. I was so scared."

If anyone got sick around there, no one would look after them. I gave him a drink of water, and it was only when I got real close that I could make out what he kept mumbling. "Revenge. I must get revenge..." Back then, I did not even know what that meant. All I saw was the cool-looking beads hanging around the neck of the blind kid, and I figured I would snatch them. However, he fought me off, gripping those beads like they were his lifeline. "No way; they're my mom's. She's gone now."

$1 million was a lot of money for a stockkeeper. Tony's expression suddenly turned dark. "But if you can't find the thief and the item…"

It doesn't matter how lenient he is with me behind closed doors. Hurt flashes across his face for millisecond before his expression darkens. I know that I've stepped out of line. That he'll punish us and he'd make me regret speaking to him in such a manner. But then he lets out a deep sigh. "You're right," he says quietly. "I don't know what it's like to go hungry. But stealing is not the answer. There are other ways to get what you need." I feel ashamed and lower my head. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

I said as I kept walking along. Each point would be ticked off with my fingers so that they could also have a visual aid because brains were something that they seemed to lack. “Never be ungrateful asses because that’s not very nice.” Our people were obviously amused because they were snorting and chuckling. These assholes clearly were not because they just looked even more pissy. “Consent is essential. I thought this was common knowledge, but apparently it’s not, so let me dumb it down for you. You touch and take what’s not yours, and it’s the same as stealing. What’s the biblical way of dealing with a thief?” I asked.

My brows furrowed in confusion as I wondered why he sounded so scared. "Stealing from weak little girls. Well…" He hesitated, grabbing hold of the thief by the throat, then slammed him against the wall. "If you really want to steal, I can help you. I'll give you guys and you can go Rob a bank." "What sort of advice is that?" I watched the thief struggle to get away, but the man held him in place as if he weighed nothing. "We should try to save his soul and not ruin him more. We can't advice him to continue stealing."

I located my seat, and sat down. “Isn’t stealing described as taking what doesn’t belong to you without permission?” Her voice was low, Mamma must be nearby. Smart of her to not out me yet. “If I have the intention of returning it, I guess you can call that borrowing. Stop with all these questions, I have to go. Promise me you won’t tell a soul.” “Sure I can do that if Mamma asks. but if your husband does, I don’t know if I will keep the promise. You know he terrifies me.”

Just as my finger curled around it, a deep voice stopped me in my tracks. “Aren't you taught that stealing is a bad habit, and you want to get caught in it?”. I froze; the voice was smooth, yet it held an edge that made my race; slowly, I turned. It was him. “I wasn't stealing,” I quickly said, clutching the bread behind my back. He raised one of his dark eyebrows. “Really? Then what do you call it?” “It's called surviving,” I snapped before I could stop myself. “You, too, can give it a try.”

The best part is, I'm completely clean in the eyes of the law. "I never told anyone to commit murder. All I did was answer the administrators' questions honestly and share my opinion. That's a student's right. No one can accuse me of anything. As for Mr. Vale's twisted mind and everything he did afterward, that was all his own choice. It has nothing to do with me. "It's a perfect plan with a perfect outcome. Tomorrow, my brother is bringing Wendy home to meet our parents. I'll act really happy for him and pretend I'm thrilled about his future. After all, I'm a kind, thoughtful little brother."