i once stole a post-it pad from a printer shop.
it was an honest steal
{the nearby sign said "take one"}
but when my mother asked where i got it, her tone made me feel like i had done something wrong.
so i lied.
i told her i got it from a friend and when she called to check it out with said friend, i might have said i won it as a prize...
well, it is no surprise my lies were uncovered; my mother took me back to the print shop to reconcile.
the owner accepted my apology and the money i gathered from my red patent leather wallet.
then he got down on a knee, looked me in the eyes and said:
you see that building over there?
that is a juvenile detention facility {blah blah blah blah}...that is where you will go if you steal again.
nod. gulp.
{breathe, daphne, breathe}
his words were not the whole truth but something about the interaction stuck with me.
i can't say with confidence that i never stole or lied or broke any rules/laws from that day forward.
though, with confidence, i can say each time i am confronted with a decision that might maybe come close to doing "wrong," my heart pounds and i get a lump in my throat reminiscent of that day.
i don't agree with the owner's tactic {shame is never good for anyone} but there was a lesson in there...
