Do you remember back when civilty and common courtesy ruled? Please understand I share this story as an example of those times, not for self-serving purposes. I mean that.
My mother recently went through her hope chest, and sent some wonderful things that she had been saving for me. I couldn’t believe what she held on to for so many years.
In 1974, when I was 19 years old, I had a car accident. It was nothing more than a small fender bender and I think my Dad paid for the damages out of his pocket they were so minimal. At the time I thought it was the biggest tragedy that had ever befallen me. Never did it occur to me that I had been through much worse than that and survived the experience.
My twin sister was in the passenger seat and there were no injuries other than to the spirit. I was beside myself. (You know how teenage girls tend to over react, right?) I felt awful I had damaged someone else’s car and my parent’s vehicle.
I couldn’t believe the kindness the man that I rammed into showed me. He offered to come home with me to help me tell my parents because I was such a wreck. My sister can testify that the man upheld his offer.
Furthermore, after it was all done and over, the wife of the man I rammed into sent this note to my parents to let him know their car had been repaired and all was well. No hard feelings.
(Truthfully, I don’t have any clue what I said or did to warrant the comments on this note.)
Today’s message on All Things Fulfilling is for all parents. I want to share what John Locke once said, “We are like cameleons, we take our color and our hue of our moral character, from those who are around us.” ~ John Locke
Thank you, Mom & Dad. I am so glad I grew up in an era of old-fashioned civilty and you raised me to have a strong moral compass. According to Locke, your colors must have rubbed off on me. I hope I always stay true to my values.
This blog is brought to you by the award-winning author of Gift of a Lifetime: Finding Fulfilling Things in the Unexpected and Short Stories: Lessons of Heart & Soul, Sue Batton Leonard.