Getting It Right

I spied the downed branch as I entered the driveway. It was still attached—barely—to the trunk. I did not see the boy standing on it for another few moments. He looked about nine years old.

I prayed. I honestly prayed. I wanted God's help in handling the situation graciously. I wanted to help that boy. He just moved in across the street. His grandma knows I am a minister. So I also wanted to be as good a witness to the love of Jesus as I could.

I see everything that followed as an answer to prayer. As I got out of my truck I said to the boy, “Looks like you broke our tree.”

“No I didn't,” he said.

I asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

I said, “Do you have anything you want to say?”

“No.”

I turned and walked into the garage. I grabbed a saw and walked back out to the tree. He was still standing there. I tried one more time. “Did you break the branch?”

“No.”

I bent down and started sawing the branch off at the trunk. After a few seconds, the boy tapped me on the shoulder and said, “I'm sorry.”

I said how great it was that he had admitted it, and I wasn't mad, in fact, I was glad that he had done the right thing. When I finished my cut I said, “Tell you what. How about you drag this branch back to the stack you can see in the back yard and we'll say we're all even?”

He said okay and started off with the branch. I told him to wait a second. “Don't forget this,” I said, and pulled down the super soaker he had left stuck in a higher branch.

He smiled and said, “Oh yeah! I forgot!”

I am ashamed to admit that I often do not act graciously. It is a very good thing my truck does not have a microphone and loudspeaker for all the world to hear what I say about other drivers. I can say mean things to my wife. Sarcasm and cynicism are my fall-back positions.

But every now and then, with God's help, I get it right. I know this sounds like one of those contrived lessons we used to read in Sunday school. But it actually happened exactly as I have depicted it. And I thank the Lord it did.