2025 ARTICLE
The Zen Robbery
In Kyoto, where everything is serene, mossy, and whispering ancient wisdom, a quiet Zen temple became the scene of the most polite crime in Japanese history.
One morning, the head monk, Master Ichiro, discovered something odd. The donation box—normally filled with humble coins from grateful visitors—was completely empty.
No break-in marks. No chaos. Just… gone.
He checked the CCTV.
There it was.
At 2:43 a.m., a man in a ski mask tiptoed into the temple, bowed deeply to the altar, removed his shoes (because manners), crept up to the donation box, and—after muttering “sumimasen”—gently took the money.
Before leaving, he lit some incense, rang the prayer bell, and swept the front steps.
Master Ichiro was stunned. The man had stolen... but respectfully.
The police called it “the most well-mannered theft in Kyoto history.” The thief was caught a week later—turns out, he felt so guilty he returned to leave an apology letter and 3,000 yen.
The temple forgave him. They even made him tea.
Today, that temple has a sign above the donation box: “Steal our hearts, not our coins.”