The day I almost killed my sister

I was 17 years old. I had just gotten my license and, of course, I was driving the family car too fast. Heading to school in the rain, with my sister in the car, I came over a hill just as the light ahead of me turned red. Being inexperienced, I slammed on the brakes too hard. As the car spun out of control I remember seeing the intersection ahead of us full of traffic. Fortunately, the car slammed into the concrete median and came to a stop facing into on-coming traffic. While the front wheels were bent, the car drove just enough for me to get it off the road and into a nearby car dealership. I went inside to borrow a phone and call my Dad.

It's at this point in sharing the story with my students that I stop. I ask them what they think happened next as I called my Dad. I get a whole series of responses in this general flavour:

• You got grounded for life!
• He screamed at you.
• You didn't get to drive the car for a year.
• Boy was he mad.

Then I tell them what really happened.

My Dad didn't say much on the phone other than to check if I and my sister were ok. A short time later he arrived with the second car. I don't remember much about our conversation. I suspect I was doing most of the talking. What I do remember is this: My Dad handing me the keys to our second car and telling me to take my sister to school. There might also have been something about getting back up on the horse.

There were no punishments and no yelling. When the bill for the repairs arrived I paid for it. That was it.

It's at this point in sharing the story with my students that I stop and ask, "What did I have to do as a child in order to get my parents to trust me so much that they would willingly give me the second car right after I finished smashing up the first?"

I use this story to illustrate to my students the idea that we have relationships with people that take time and investment to build. The relationship with my parents wasn't built in one day. It was created over years. When they asked me to clean my room I did. When there was homework or chores to be done I did them. When I had to be home at a certain time I was. Not perfectly of course, as none of us is perfect this side of glory, but in general when my parents asked me to do something I did it. Each one of these interactions over many years was a small deposit in the relationship with my parents. So when the day came to make a gigantic withdrawal, my account with my parents was so full that it could handle a car crash.

I love telling this story to my students and I hope and pray that the message gets through to them.