Every community during every Christmas season has within it a bit of Whoville. And always a Grinch ready to plunder.

You know the story, that of the creature with a heart “two sizes too small” and a dislike of anything yuletide. The Grinch cleans out the town but discovers no amount of thievery can destroy the spirit of Christmas.

The story ends on a note of personal epiphany. In real-life Whovilles, no evidence exists of lessons learned.

Still, goodness rises.

The Rev. Brad Bryan pastors at Methodist churches in Agency and near Gower. The son of a minister, he tends his flock while completing courses at St. Paul School of Theology in Kansas City.

Twelve days ago, with the Advent season commenced and finals week under way, the Rev. Bryan got a call from his landlord in St. Joseph. A neighbor noticed his apartment lights on and his door open.

Burglars had worked over the place, seemingly in broad daylight. The young pastor had the presence of mind to go through the rudiments of the robbed — he called the police and the bank, his parents and his professors.

But what he saw in the apartment, familiar but suddenly foreign, finally hammered him. Someone stole his stuff.

His stereo and speakers. Vanished. His DVDs and the machine that played them. Gone.

The clothes closet had nothing left. Ties, dress shoes, all of it burgled.

“They took weird stuff,” the minister says. “They took my T-shirts.”

The real blow landed when he went into the second bedroom. A musician, the Rev. Bryan kept in there his electric guitar and keyboard, plus the mandolin and ukulele that were gifts from his fiancee. Assorted other rain sticks, dulcimers and castanets. The burglar took them all.

Most glaringly absent was the six-piece, cherry-red Pearl drum set. He began drumming in fourth grade. This was his dream set, obtained five years ago.

The monetary and sentimental hit proved significant. But the feeling of violation weighs on him. Some offender took the gifts he bought others for Christmas, saw his fiancee’s picture, rifled his dresser.

“The drawers on the floor, that’s the image that sticks with me,” the Rev. Bryan says. “Someone went through all my stuff.”

In a busy season, the minister enjoyed no luxury of moping. He had a Bible study class to lead. He went wearing rumpled clothes, the only attire available.

And the people there talked him through his problem. They shared experiences and gave him perspective on his setback. They lifted him from a low point.

Ministry, it seems, goes two ways.

The Methodist district supervisor said just the right things. Family and friends rallied round. The lady at the bank who changed his checking account offered him comfort.

Sure, the whole episode still smarts. The theology student would like nothing better than to sit behind those drums, Led Zeppelin playing on the stereo, and try to duplicate a John Bonham backbeat.

But the pastor found strength in a community of folks who care about him.

As for whoever burglarized a young minister’s apartment just before Christmas, prayers of mercy will be said.

Expect, though, some bad karma. This isn’t Whoville.

Ken Newton’s column runs Sunday and Tuesday.