If asked, I believe most folks would say they would choose to be good rather than bad. But while there are advantages to that choice, there is also an inherent cost.
I will explain soon, but first, the Girly Girls and I have to get to soccer practice, and the coach makes them run laps if they’re late, which I don’t really understand. Since I’m the one who didn’t get them to practice on time, I should be the one running laps, not them.
After loading up the car, we all piled in, excited to be going to practice when the temperature was in the low eighties rather than the mid-nineties. The car conversation bounced from the front seat to the back about everything and really nothing — until we turned down the last street near the soccer complex. Traffic slowed to a crawl as a police officer moved two huge boxes from the inside lane of oncoming traffic and then drove off. The boxes, now unclaimed, lay on the median.
As we crawled past the two boxes, I read out aloud what was printed on the sides, “‘1 of 2’ and ‘2 of 2 – In-ground adjustable basketball goal system with backboard.’”
Excitedly, the Girly Girls said, “Papa, it’s just like the one we always wanted!”
“Stop, let’s get it!”
“It’s free!”
Turning into the soccer complex I responded, “It’s not ours. And it’s not free. It comes with a huge price; one I don’t want to pay.” Of course they didn’t understand my comments, so with a few minutes still before practice started, I decided a story was in order. “Let me tell you a quick story about when I was growing up on …”
“Papa! Does everything you see remind you of a story from when you were a little boy back on Flamingo?”
“Why, yes, girls, yes, it does. Now as I was saying …
For those seven magical years we spent growing up on Flamingo, our parents taught us many things that I still remember and treasure to this very day. But one of the most important things my parents taught us was the value of honesty. It’s easy to lie, cheat, and even steal. Anyone can do that, but not everyone can be honest. Being honest is hard when it seems you’re the only one and everyone around you is being rewarded for their bad behavior.”
The Girly Girls didn’t really understand the meaning of my story, so I gave a few examples.
“Last week you both had really hard tests. Wouldn’t it have been easier to cheat on those tests and play, rather than put in all that time studying? And what about that fidget thingy you wanted but Mom didn’t buy? You could’ve just put it in your pocket and walked out of the store.”
“It’s called a fidget spinner, Papa! And stealing’s wrong.”
“So is cheating!”
“But what if no one saw you cheating and you got a good grade? And what if no one saw you steal the spinner and you got away with it?”
In unison the Girly Girls answered, “Still wrong, Papa.”
I smiled at their answer, “And that’s my point and the point my parents made to us kids so long ago. Do good no matter whether someone is watching or not. I’m not going to drive back over and load up that basketball goal. That price is too high for me to pay.”
“What does it cost?”
“What’s the price, Papa?”
“Girls, the price is guilt. The realization that you aren’t a good person. That’s a price I’m not willing to pay.”
Just then, the coach arrived at the field, and the Girly Girls started getting out. As they did, I asked them, “Did y’all understand the meaning of my story?” Their response wasn’t what I’d expected.
They laughed, “Yes, we’re getting a new basketball goal for Christmas!”
As they ran off, I smiled and started a search on Amazon. Yes, girls. You probably are.
[Rick Ryckeley has been writing stories weekly in The Citizen since 2001.]
I always enjoy your columns because I taught at Mt. Olive Elementary in East Point from 1969-1978. i had previously mailed a letter to you at The Citizen address, but did not get a response. Maybe you did not get it because it is lost in Palmetto facility. Lucy Dukes was the principal while I was there and she ran an excellent school! As you have mentioned some teachers(not by real names) in your columns, I pretty much knew who you were thinking of. I taught first grade all my years at MOE and I did not have the pleasure of teaching you. If you would like to converse sometime by email, I would be happy to relate some TRUE stories from my MOE days as a teacher. Great start to my career of 30 years in education. Hope to hear from you.
Joyce Lorton
Joyce Lorton