Dishonesty Hurts
One day, while shopping with my mother at the local grocery store, I caught sight of a shiny silver cap gun. It was just what I wanted. I imagined myself playing for hours, hiding behind the couch and chairs, defending myself from imaginary enemies. Each time the bad guys would lose and I would win.
Nothing I could say changed mother's answer. "No, we can't buy a cap gun."
"But why not, why not" I pleaded.
"We aren't going to buy a cap gun" she said more firmly.
My mind wouldn't let it go. Hours after returning home I still thought about that shiny silver cap gun and how much fun I would have. That's when things started to go wrong.
I decided to go see how much it cost. In spite of mother's warnings not to cross the busy street by my self, I thought I was big enough. I'd be careful, I told myself.
I waited for the street light to change and then hurried across the street, passing the corner gas station, and on toward the store. I entered the store and walked to where the cap gun was on display.
The price made me gasp. I'll never have that much money, I said to myself. Then a thought came into my mind, "Just take it."
I walked up and down all the isles in the store, stopping to look at the candy, and then back to the shelf where the cap gun waited. "Just take it" I thought.
Strangely, all the clerks were gone. I slipped the cap gun into my pocket. Another thought came to my mind, "If you don't leave the store no one can accuse you of stealing. Just stand by the door for a while, check to be sure no one is around, and then hurry out the door."
I walked to the store entrance and stopped.
Suddenly there was a huge hand tightening on my shoulder. My heart jumped and I turned my head to see who held me.
A very tall man with unhappy eyes glared down at me. "What do you have in your pocket?" he asked.
"Nothing" I barely managed to say.
"We better go to my office." Now it seemed dozens of clerks were watching as the large hand easily guided me to a small office.
"What do you have in your pocket?" the man in a red vest ask once again.
Again I calmly said, "Nothing," but my head was swirling and my heart pounding.
"Empty your pockets," he said.
I did.
"Is this yours?" he asked.
"No," I finally had to admit.
"Maybe I should call the police. Do you want me to call the police?" his voice grew louder each time he spoke the word 'police.'
"No!" I said quickly. Panic was starting to take over. How can it get any worse, I thought. And then it got worse.
"Who's your father?"
"Fred Brown" I said with eyes that began to get blurry.
"Maybe I should call your father. Do you want me to call your father?"
"No!" I said with a quiver in my voice.
I'd rather he call the police than my father. I didn't want to disappoint my father.
"If I don't call the police or your father will you promise never to steal again?" he offered.
"Yes!" I said, my head nodding it's agreement.
"Do you promise?" the blurry figure repeated.
"I promise" came from me.
"Okay, you can go this time but next time I'll call the police and your father," he added with more than adequate emphasis.
I hurried to the door and to freedom, past all the smiling clerks.
For months I refused to go with my mother back to that store. I learned that dishonesty hurts. I never wanted to feel like that again. I've tried to keep that promise until this very day. I think my father would be proud of me.
Return to: Day 6 p.m.
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