NO MORE

In a former post, I mentioned the telling of a little white lie. Now, I would like to tell you a story of honesty. One Valentine season, my three children and I were in a store I would name “Knick Knacks,” as it was full of items according to the named celebration. As always, Knick Knacks was filled with prospective customers, enjoying the unusual displays of goodies. Suddenly, there was a sound of broken glass in the back of the room. Just as suddenly, a girl, wearing glasses, her light brown hear surrounding her rosy-cheeked face, appeared in front of the cashier. She asked her, in her childhood voice, “You know that little glass heart filled with candy hearts on the back shelf?” The clerk nodded, knowing which one it was. The girl continued, “It’s no more.”

I was impressed with this young lady. I have never seen a young person, much less an older one, come forward to say he or she had broken something. I admit, I was also impressed with her use of words to explain what had happened. It still makes me laugh, as it does others, when I have shared this story.

The clerk was very nice, thanking her for letting her know. She was not to worry about it, the clerk said, as she went off to clean up the shattered glass.

What a lesson for all of us that day. Because of her honesty, I am sure many more have come forward if something gets broken. I remember going up to a clerk after one of my children knocked a tiny four-dollar porcelain angel off the shelf. On her be-half, the store had clutter everywhere, on the floor and on the shelves, making it very hard to maneuver around. However, the point being, it was still a broken item. I went forward to tell the store’s owner to say what happened. He pulled out his sales pad and charged me, plus tax.

His actions have not stopped me from being honest, though. All I have to do is hear that sweet girl’s voice saying, “It’s no more.” I heard them the day when two of my children, who never argued or fought, decided to give one another a poke right in front of a display promoting a special liquor for the holiday season. We were on the way to the pharmacy, passing the liquor department right before it. Down went the boxed bottle with two drinking glasses, the sound of shattering glass resonating. I was furious. Why, I asked, did you decide to quit being best friends at that very moment? I marched over to the cashier, embarrassed, bringing out my wallet to pay for the mess. He was most kind, telling me to put my money away. My own children did not get away with it, though. It led to a lecture. They hated one of my lectures, leaving me with the feeling this would never happen again.

They continued being best friends, never fighting, never arguing, UNTIL the next year. The moment we passed the same display in the same spot, it was as if something pulled them into a whirling pool. They wordlessly turned around, at the same time, to give a poke. This time I was ready, blocking their hands, saying, “Don’t you DARE.” We made it by, the display staying intact. I did have to give a tiny lecture. It prevented any future incidents.

Though it has been 15 years since I witnessed the exchange between the tween and a clerk, her image will always remain with me. By now, she will likely be married and have a child or two of her own. They do not know what an effect their mother had on all of us that day, making the world a better place.