OK, first...for Kori: The post below is a link. Go to the link and then read Stacy's post. Then you'll understand. :)
On to the creepy: On Monday the kids and I were on our way home from visiting my Mom and as we turned into our subdivision, we saw a teenage boy and girl walking down the road. I stopped to offer them a ride home, and it turned out they lived just down the road from me. We chatted, introduced ourselves, they were highschoolers attending an alternative school nearby. They often walk to and from school. It's about a 2 hour walk, each way. It was apparent that they were very poor, as is the case with about half our neighborhood. The other half are working-class families like mine. A typical Alaskan neighborhood. After awhile it occured to me where I'd heard the boy's name before. Two years ago his eleven year old brother hung himself. He used to ride the school bus with my daughter. My heart went out to these kids.
I dropped them off and couldn't get them off my mind.
Fast forward to Thursday. There's a knock at my door. A clean-cut man driving a new pickup. He wanted to know is this was the _____ house. (The name of the boy who I had driven home on Monday) Prior to Monday, I'd never have known where he lived. Creepy. I told the man no, but I knew where they lived because I'd given him a ride home. The man thanked me and drove away. All night I kept thinking how weird that all was. I even called my neighbor to tell her about it. I don't believe in coincidence. That happened for a reason. I was able to tell that man where the boy lived for a reason.
OK, now it's last night. Friday. My neighbor calls to ask me if I'd read the paper today. Nope. She went on to tell me that one of the homeowners in our neighborhood that had been burglarized recently took it upon himself to go find his stolen property and recover it on his own. By asking around. By posting signs. By getting names of likely suspects from neighbors. Then finally by knocking on doors to locate the home of those suspects. Doors like mine. And I told him where they lived. And he went there and sure enough, found his stolen property. The boy said they'd been selling stolen stuff and using the money to buy meth.
So...long, confusing story short. I gave a burglar a ride home, and that was the reason he was caught. He's not in jail, by the way. He's "under investigation". And he lives down the street. Ick.