This guy loved living in Staten Island, but he wasn't crazy about the ferry. If you missed a ferry late at night, you had to spend the next hour or so wandering the deserted streets of lower Manhattan.
So, when he spotted a ferry no more than fifteen feet from the dock, he decided he wouldn't subject himself to an hour's wait. He made a running leap and landed on his hands and knees, a little bruised maybe, but safe on deck.
He got up, brushed himself off, and announced proudly to a bystander, "Well, I made that one, didn't I?"
"Sure did," the bystander said. "But you should have waited a minute or two. The ferry is just about to dock."
A man with a nagging secret couldn't keep it any longer. In the confessional he admitted that for years he had been stealing building supplies from the lumberyard where he worked.
"What did you take?" his priest asked.
"Enough to build my own house and enough for my son's house. And houses for our two daughters and our cottage at the lake."
"This is very serious," the priest said. "I shall have to think of a far-reaching penance. Have you ever done a retreat?"
"No, Father, I haven't," the man replied. "But if you can get the plans, I can get the lumber."