(PPD Badge #86 Passed This Poem Along To Me, Thanks Joe!)
The policeman stood and faced his God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining.
Just as brightly as his brass.
"Step forward now, policeman.
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My church have you been true?"
The policeman squared his shoulders and said,
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't,
Because those of us who carry badges
can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays,
and at times my talk was rough,
and sometimes I've been violent,
Because the streets are awfully tough.
But I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep....
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep.
And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fear.
If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't.....I'll understand.
There was silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod.
As the policeman waited quietly,
For the judgement of his God.
"Step forward now, policeman,
You've borne your burdens well.
Come walk a beat on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in hell."
And special thanks to my very
special friend Jodi Leetz for this one:
When the Lord was creating peace officers,
he exerted a tremendous
amount of labor
into creating a very peculiar specimen.
An angel who
had been curiously watching
our Lord's every move said, "You seem
to be giving a lot more attention
to the creation of this being
Lord, is this one special"?
And the Lord said, " Its a peace officer
and he will be expected to
be able
to run miles over rough terrain
in the dark, scale walls and
fences,
and tackle people much bigger than
him and not wrinkle his uniform".
"He has to be able to sit in an undercover
car all day on a stakeout,
cover a homicide scene that night,
canvass the neighborhood for
witnesses,
and testify in court the next day.
"He has to be in top physical condition
at all times, running on
black coffee
and half-eaten meals.
He will need to know how to
change someones life of crime
to one of submission and to do it
in an instant while knowing that
afterwards there will be many
men
who sit in judgement of his actions
and that they will never approve of his methods."
"He will need a heart like a rock
that can not be swayed, yet
one
that still bleeds and beats
with compassion for his fellow man;
for
if he loses the compassion he too will be lost. "
"He will need hands strong enough
to overpower every foe
yet tender
enough to help a little child or
an aging parent. He
will need to be
skilled in all of the arts of
warfare and yet
he will be expected to make peace.
"Lord," said the angel, touching his sleeve,
"rest, and work on this tomorrow."
"I can't," said the Lord,
"I already have a model that can talk
a 250
pound drunk into a patrol car
without incident and feed a family of
five on a civil service paycheck."
The angel circled the model of
the peace officer very slowly,
"Can it think?" he asked.
"You bet," said the Lord.
"It can tell you the elements of
a hundred
crimes; recite Miranda warnings
in its sleep; detain, investigate,
search, and arrest a gang member
on the street in less time than it
takes five learned judges to debate
the legality of the stop... and
still it keeps its sense of humor.
This officer also has phenomenal personal
control. He can deal with
crime scenes
painted in hell, coax a confession from
a child abuser,
comfort
a murder victim's family, and then
read in the daily paper
how law enforcement
isn't sensitive to the rights of criminal suspects."
Finally, the angel bent over
and ran his finger across
the cheek of
the peace officer.
"There's a leak," he pronounced.
"I told you
that you were trying to
put too much into this model."
"That's not a leak," said the Lord,
"it's a tear."
"What's the tear for?" asked the angel.
"It's for bottled-up emotions,
for fallen comrades, for the
injustices that seem to never stop;
it's for the ridicule that
comes at the hands
of those he has taken an oath to defend."
"Lord, you've thought of everything," said the angel.
The Lord looked somber and said, "I didn't put it there".
A society that makes war with it's police had better learn to make friends with it's criminals...
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