Did you ever have one of those weeks? You know the kind, where
one day you feel the world is out to get you and the next your
faith is restored. The kind where you have no idea how you’re going
to get everything done but then it somehow gets completed?
Did you ever have one of those weeks? You know the kind, where one day you feel the world is out to get you and the next your faith is restored. The kind where you have no idea how you’re going to get everything done but then it somehow gets completed?

That was my week.

Monday was the day the remaining pages of San Benito High School’s 340-page yearbook were due. One missing story; one missing page, and the entire book would go to the back of the line at the printing plant and would be late. There were 3,000 students and their parents counting on us. No pressure.

We worked for weeks during class, during breaks, during lunch, and after school to put the final touches on the annual publication. Still, we weren’t done and the clock was ticking. So we came back after school to work some more. Four o’clock, still going, but we need some caption information. Five o’clock, where are those missing pictures? We were getting close, though, so things looked good.

Then I walked out to the staff parking lot to get my son’s backpack out of my truck and discovered that someone had broken into my vehicle and stole my dash-mounted satellite radio. They also rifled through my glove compartment and checked for anything else of value – boy, were they looking in the wrong guy’s truck.

That was irritating enough, and I felt violated. But then I discovered that this person or persons stole my sixth-grade son’s backpack. They really needed those language arts notes from Sacred Heart School, I guess. What’s the street value on those?

Or maybe they were after the hooded school sweatshirt with his name stitched on the chest (if you see a kid that doesn’t look like me wearing an “M. Breen” sweatshirt, tackle him for me, would you?) They also took his iPod, which shouldn’t have been in there, but they can have it for all I care.

Couldn’t they have left the backpack, the sweatshirt, and the binder? I was upset, I was peeved (to put it kindly), and I felt bad for my son, who now has to rely on others to get copies of all of the stolen work. Suddenly, I was one of those anonymous people I read about in the police blotter, walking out to their car to find that some winner felt the need to take something that wasn’t theirs.

I called the police, but they no longer respond to these incidents if there are no suspects. (Where’s the sales tax increase when you need it?) That’s just great. But I had no time to dwell on my misfortune. It was 6pm and we needed to finish the yearbook

Seven o’clock rolled around and I thought we might actually get this thing done. Seven-thirty hit and we were in fact done – all was right with the world again, until I got in my truck and was reminded about the crime.

But there was always tomorrow

Tuesday was grey and rainy, and my Little League team was supposed to practice. Showers turned to downpours and it wasn’t looking good. Then we got out to our field at R.O. Hardin and the infield dirt had no puddles. After a while, the clouds parted a bit and we were able to play. This day wouldn’t be so bad after all.

(Bragging alert …)

My son, putting the theft of his stuff behind him, then headed over to Ladd Lane and took second in the county spelling bee. Now he and a schoolmate get to represent San Benito County at the state championships in May.

I mention that because reflecting on the week gone by reminded me of the saying that goes something like “God will never give us more than we can handle.” We get tested repeatedly in this life.

We get blessed with health but don’t appreciate it until we get sick. We get lulled into a sense of security until we’re the victim of a crime. We consider our friends and family loved ones, but how often do we let them know that’s what we think of them?

Bad times remind us how lucky we are in the good times. They can either wreck us or make us stronger.

This week was a challenge, but I’m looking at the positives: we’re heading for the first full weekend of spring, Little League kicks off its season with opening ceremonies tonight, and somewhere in Hollister some punk is being made fun of for wearing a Sacred Heart sweatshirt that has someone else’s name on it.

Adam Breen teaches journalism and yearbook at San Benito High School. He is former editor of The Free Lance.

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A staff member wrote, edited or posted this article, which may include information provided by one or more third parties.

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