He who is without sin, cast the first stone.

Michael Vick. A human being. Created by God. Born to a teenage mom. No positive father involvement. Grew up. Poor. No time for character to develope. Trying to survive the getto. Stay alive. Stay fed. Was given a gift. Of athletic ability. Strong legs. Strong arms. Eyes weakened by sights. Seen as a young boy. Who should be watching cartoons. He saw real life. Friends were surviviors. Just like he. Rough. No room for soft. No bowl of Cheerios. A platter of hard choices. Given a gift. Of fame. Fortune. Too much for a young prince. Not ready to be king. Friends. Still. Knew he could feed. Them and all. Play mean games. On one's eyes. To see how bad it was. Friends scatter. The pot of gold gone bad. Eyes clearer. Hearts still dim. I remember the woman, looking to lose her life. A man called Jesus. Drew with stick in His hand. His eyes low. Searching the ground. His eyes clear. He knew each heart. He gave them the freedom to kill. A choice for all. With one small request. "He who is without sin, cast the first stone." The crowd backed slowly into the dark. No one willing to risk the eyes. That knew the answer long before asked. He gave her freedom. "Neither do I condemn thee. Go and sin no more." He will serve his time. Lose his gold. The Father offers freedom from the hands that take one's life. A chance for redemption. A second chance. I'll not stand in the crowd this time. I can only see one's eyes, God can see one's heart.