Honest Abe

I was fortunate enough to grow up in a home where honesty was the expected standard. I didn't always appreciate that gift as a kid. I thought it was a bit goofy and sometimes just down right annoying! Did we get an extra hamburger in the drive through? Well, Dad would park, walk back to the burger place and pay for the extra hamburger. Did you earn any money babysitting? Dad reminded you to pay your tithing (it was a real bummer that Dad was the ward clerk so he knew if you paid it or not.) Stumped on you last math homework problem? Better be prepared to do the entire problem, step by step if you asked Dad for help. His theory was so you could "learn" how to do the problem and so it was really "your" work. Somehow I managed to live in this troubling and burdensome environment of honesty.
One summer our family went on a car trip. I can't remember where but I do remember it was hot and our car broke down just south of Somewheresville. Mom let us out to stretch our legs while Dad talked to the mechanic. I know Nat and Zach were with me and perhaps a small toddler Cara. As we wondered around we were suddenly drawn to a pop machine like magnets to a fridge. A larger than life sized icy pop can was pictured on the front complete with water droplets running down the sides and fizz spurting from the freshly opened can. (I must digress here briefly and remind the readers that pop was like caviar in our home. It was a rare delicacy served at special occasions and in small, Dixie cup amounts. ) We all knew it wasn't even worth asking Mom if we could have one.
Out of that small cluster of thirsty children someone put out a wistful finger and pushed a button. Miraculously a can of pop slid down the shoot. It was cold and heavy in our hands. God had smiled on us we were sure. We tried again and another can slid into waiting hands. We tried again with the same result. Soon we each had our own gift of icy, cold , refreshment from Heaven. That is until Dad saw us carrying them to the car. It didn't matter to Dad the the pop machine had just given us 3 or 4 cans of pop for free. No, it didn't matter because it would be steeling to take something without paying for it.
Dad returned all the pop to the mechanic and we were left to obtaining water from leaky cooler. I learned an important life lesson that day. There have been a few times where and extra candy bar or can of soda slide from the machine. Because of Dad's example all those years ago I try to pay for the extra stuff. Sometimes there is no one around, no "mechanic" manning the station. I am then forced to eat the candy bar or drink the pop but Dad, I don't enjoy it at all!