Good Deed or Grand Theft Auto?

I visited the Library today with Braden and as I returned to my car a frazzled middle-aged man rushed past me muttering, "Don't mind me, just breaking into my own car." I continued to strap Braden in and then watched as he struggled to reach the lock through the slightly cracked window in his minivan. As I analyzed the crack against my arm I offered, "Do you think my arm will fit through there?" He contemplated as he continued to jam something odd shaped and long through the window. Finally he let me try. I got my arm in, but still couldn't reach. He then gave me a boost and--voila--the car was unlocked. Unfortunately, at the instant I unlocked the door, the alarm began to chime. The "owner" scrambled to the back seat to retrieve the keys and silence the alarm. I returned to my car and drove away.
I hope I was an answer to prayer, not an accomplice to a crime.
I did learn one thing, though--My arms aeren't as small as I thought they were; The bruises prove it.