My paternal grandparents were citrus growers in Florida and they had a lovely home adjacent to acres and acres of orange trees. We used to visit them regularly. I loved going to their house!
They had a basement where my sister and I would play for hours. It contained a hammock from my grandfather's Navy days, a pool table, and various treasures to explore. Even though it had a musty smell, we loved being down there. The basement felt like our own private clubhouse. We made up dramatic skits and planned out magic shows and forced the rest of the family to watch our performances. One time, we even colored my sister's thumb with red and blue markers and cut out a hole in a small box for her to stick her finger through. We thought everyone believed us when we told them we had found a dead finger. It was years before I knew no one had been fooled.
I also loved to go to my grandparents house because we had the freedom to tromp through the orange groves. One particular memory comes back to me often regarding those groves and serves as the basis for an important life lesson on integrity.
One day my mother, grandmother, and I were all sitting outside conversing and enjoying the sunshine, even though a strong acidic smell lingered in the air. It was the smell of burned oranges, but I didn't know that at the time.
I asked to go exploring. My grandmother said, "You may go as long as you are within distance of my voice, however, we have recently had to burn some dead trees. There are several large piles of ashes. Please don't play in those."
I promised not to mess with the ashes and headed out to find a childhood adventure. I was wearing brand new, navy blue boat shoes typical of 1980s fashion - this will be important later.
Fairly quickly into my journey, I came across a monstrous pile of ashes. It looked like a giant hill. It begged for someone to run to the top and declare themselves king of the hill. I knew my grandma had told me not to get into the ashes, but it was calling to me, taunting me, demanding me to run to the top. How would she even know? I was within her voice range, but not her eyesight. I decided I would run up quickly and then come down. My six year old self was sure she would never find out.
I took a giant step onto the ash hill and my foot sunk down. The ashes weren't sturdy like I had expected. I took another step with my other foot. It also sank down. I quickly realized you can't run up a pile of ashes like packed dirt or a grassy hillside. I decided to abandon my efforts. I stepped out of the pile of sinking ashes and back on to the grass. That is when I noticed that my new, dark blue shoes were now gray. They were covered with ash. Any shininess they formerly possessed was now dulled out. I desperately tried to wipe them off. I rubbed them with my fingers, I spit on them, then I tried to wipe them clean with my shirt. It was no use. My shoes were ruined.
At that moment, I knew I was caught. My grandmother would know I didn't listen to her only request. I was angry with myself for not listening. I knew my grandma was going to be disappointed in me for not following her rule—and my mother was going to be angry I had ruined my brand new shoes. I remember walking slowly back to the house with my head hanging down in shame, tears burning my eyes.
That was the day I learned it does matter what you do when no one else is looking. There are always consequences for your actions. I learned a powerful lesson about integrity that I have carried with me my whole life.
My grandmother was disappointed and my mother was mad, but they both modeled forgiveness and love. I wore dull, lackluster boat shoes until my foot grew to the next size and life went on—but, I became a better person that day. I realized doing the right thing was more important than becoming King of the Hill. Sure, I'm human and sometimes still find myself stepping in a pile of proverbial ashes, but when I do, I go back to that day from my childhood and remember the lessons it taught me.
Today, I challenge you to have a wonderful day, be a good human, and try not to step into any piles of ashes—even when they are beckoning to you. Do the right thing even when no one else is looking. The world would be a better place if we all took that advice!
What important life lessons did you learn as a child? Let me know in the comments!
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