What on earth happened?

A passage to explain a piece of prose which ends with these three sentences –

‘There was only one thing to do. I gave the umbrella away next morning to the first stranger I could find! I couldn’t keep it in the house, not after what had happened’

A wry old rhyme suggests that, although the rain falls on the just and the unjust, it chiefly falls on the just because the unjust steal their umbrellas. Sadly I have to confess that, while sheltering from a sudden storm on my way to church, I joined the ranks of the unjust by ‘borrowing’ an umbrella left unattended in a shop doorway.

It was only while I was singing the hymn line ‘Thy chariots of wrath the deep thunder clouds form’ that I noticed how wet and bedraggled the vicar looked. Moments later his heartrending prayer for the sad, misguided soul of the unfortunate thief who had stolen his umbrella rendered it impossible for me to contemplate confession.

There was only one thing to do. I gave the umbrella away next morning to the first stranger I could find! I couldn’t keep it in the house, not after what had happened.