reowen51

As I read many of the posts on this site I notice that many of you are dealing with offspring that are making bad choices. The power to choose is a sacred power we are all born with. In order to help you deal with your situations I offer up the following. It is taken from the second chapter of my book, "Kids, Success is a Decision". It is a true story and one that many of us who have made bad decisions will relate to. I believe that sharing something like this, from your own past, can open dialogue between parents and kids. What you do to instill values in your children after sharing something like this will make all the difference. I hope you enjoy it!

It was a hot summer day, between the third and fourth grades. The nine-year-old stood in his front yard with his baseball glove on, tossing a ball onto the pitched roof of his family home. As the ball rolled down the steep incline toward the gutter the nine-year-old would position himself below to catch the ball before it hit the ground.

Deeply intent on the activity, he did not hear his friend, Rick, ride up behind him. When he finally noticed Rick he was already putting down the kickstand on his bike a couple of feet away. Rick said, “Do you want to ride down town to the drug store with me? My mom wants me to pick up some medicine for my sister. She gave me this note and some money to pay for the stuff.”

“I will have to ask my mom,” the nine-year-old replied, “wait a minute.” He raced up the steps, through the screen door, tossed the ball and glove into a box in the corner of the big porch. Then he disappeared into the house yelling, “Mom, Mom, can I go downtown with Rick? He has to get some medicine for his sister, Nan.”

His mother looked up from her cooking duties and consented to letting him go. The nine-year-old then asked for some money to buy candy. His mother’s smile faded and she immediately began questioning him as to the whereabouts of his allowance. “I spent it all, already this week,” the boy volunteered.

“You need to learn to budget your money more wisely,” she said. Knowing his mother well he could tell by her tone that there would be no loose change in his pocket today. Feeling kind of antsy and showing it, too, with his body language, he backed out of the kitchen, spun around and yelled back over his shoulder as he ran from the scene, “ I haven’t got time for no lectures now, Mom. Rick is waitin’ and his sister needs the medicine.”

“Be careful and remember dinner is in an hour,” she yelled after him. The boy burst through the screen door and quickly grabbed his bike from the side yard. As he ran beside his bike before jumping on he yelled to Rick, “Let’s go, man.”

As the pair peddled the four blocks to the drug store, Rick told his friend that his mother had told him he could keep the change for running the errand. “You got any money?” he asked the nine-year-old.
“No, I spent all of my money this week already and I won’t get any more till next Friday after my dad gets paid,” he communicated to his friend. “Well, maybe there will be enough change for us both to get a candy bar out of this,” Rick said.

They dismounted in front of Sutton’s Drug Store. Rick parked his bike using the kickstand. His kickstand broken, the nine-year-old propped his bike against the storefront. The pair entered the store. Typical of drug stores the drug counter was at the back of the store. The two friends walked down the center aisle, past the greeting cards and the candy to Mr. Sutton’s counter. The owner of the drugstore greeted them politely. Mr. Sutton took the prescription note from Rick and read it. “This will take a couple of minutes,” Mr. Sutton said, “ Do you want to pay for it right now?” Rick said, “O.K.”, and the transaction between the druggist and the boy was completed. It netted Rick a dime in change. Rick smiled wide revealing his missing front teeth and took several long strides back down the center aisle to the candy section. Rick’s companion followed although he knew that ten cents in change meant he would have no money for candy.

In those days a candy bar cost a dime and the pair examined them all. Rick made his selection and headed for the counter to pay for it and to pick up the prescription Mr. Sutton had announced was ready.
The nine-year-old friend of Rick’s also made his selection and slipped his choice into his pocket and headed for the door. The two met outside at their bikes and began the four-block journey home.

The first block, for the first-time thief, was agonizing. He watched over his shoulder to confirm what he already suspected, that he had not been seen stealing. When the storeowner did not emerge from the store and the air was not filled with sirens he knew he had successfully stolen the candy bar.

By the time they reached the second block, Rick removed his candy bar from the bag, opened it and began to savor the flavor. His companion removed his stolen goods from his pocket, tore back the wrapper and had consumed a couple of bites without being detected by Rick. Rick still did not know what his friend had done.

As the duo reached the third block Rick finally noticed that his friend with no money was eating a candy bar. “Where did you get that?” he inquired. “I took it from the drug store,” he replied which was accompanied by a rather sheepish grin.

“You stole that candy bar?” Rick said, pointing at the half-eaten Snickers bar.

“Yeah, it was no big deal,” was the nine-year-old’s reply. “Well it is to me!” Rick said as he stood up on the pedals of his bike. As he pressed down hard on the pedals for several strokes he built up some speed and then looking back over his shoulder yelled back to his companion, “ I don’t hang around with stealers.” Rick did not hesitate now. He pushed his pedals down with all due speed and headed for home disappointed in his friend’s surprising behavior.

The fourth block of the trip home was one of reflection and remorse for the nine-year-old boy. By the time he laid his bike down in the side yard he knew what he had to do. In the house he begged his mother for a dime. She finally gave in. The nine-year-old sat down and composed a short note. It went like this:

“Dear Sir,

Earlier today I stole a Snickers candy bar from you store. Please accept this money as payment for the stolen candy. I am sorry and I will never do this kind of thing again.”

He did not sign the brief note. He tightly wrapped the note around the dime and returned to the scene of the crime. It was actually harder to place the note and money on the cash register counter without being seen than it had been to steal the candy in the first place. I know because I was the nine-year-old boy with Rick that day.

I do not recall that the incident was ever discussed with Rick again but I do know that the choices I made that day contain a very valuable lesson that pertains to this chapter’s major focus. Not all of your choices will be good ones but the bad ones can be undone by choosing differently and letting your values guide you.

I like to think that since that day long ago that I have made a lot more correct choices than incorrect ones. I know without a doubt that how you make those choices is where self-esteem comes from. When you are doing the right things for all the right reasons it gives you confidence and self-esteem. The power to choose is sacred. Teach our young people this.

Motivational Speaker/Author
Bob Owen