Don’t play fair

Taking the high road is always the best choice

Steve Hawkins
Aug 27, 2017 · 3 min read

One day while repairing a customer’s car, a young woman named Julie drove her SUV into our shop.

After greeting her in the parking lot, she told me that she heard something rattling under her car, and was worried that it might be something serious. We drove around the block together and, sure enough, I heard the noise. She filled out a work order and left her SUV with me and walked to Krogers next door to do some grocery shopping.

I drove her SUV onto the rack and raised the lift until her SUV was above my head. As I inspected the undercarriage, I found the problem: someone had tied a string with a Hot Wheels car to a mounting bracket above the muffler. So when Julie drove over a bump in the road, the toy car bounced on the muffler, making the noise.

As I reached up to untie the little car from the mounting bracket, I noticed an envelope addressed to Julie taped above the muffler near the mounting bracket. I set the car on my toolbox and then removed the envelope. But I wasn’t prepared for what was inside.

The envelope contained a letter from Julie’s ex-husband, outlining his disgust with their failed marriage. That letter was one of most painful pieces of writing I’ve ever read. When I finished reading the letter, I set it aside on the back counter. After lowering the SUV down to the shop floor, I parked it behind our shop.

Moments later, Julie returned from the grocery store with several bags of groceries.

“Did you find the problem?” Julie asked. She had a big smile on her face.

“Yes” I replied. “The muffler bracket was loose, so I tightened it up. It’s fine now.” I struggled with keeping a straight face.

“Well, do I owe you anything?”

“No. It just took a minute to fix.”

She opened the hatch and emptied her groceries into the back of her SUV. I completed the work order and gave her a copy for her records.

“Well, thanks again,” she said. And with that, she drove away.

That day, I struggled with that letter and what her ex-husband had to say. I knew she had two daughters in daycare, and now they will grow up with a father living in another home.

But what would have happened if I gave her that letter? Would it have been the fair thing to do?

And would it have been fair to her daughters if they found that letter years later hidden away somewhere in Julie’s closet?

After she drove away, I walked over to the back counter, tore up the letter, and threw it in the dumpster with the toy car.

In the end, I learned a valuable lesson that day:

Don’t be a catalyst for anger. Be a catalyst for change.

In the proceeding weeks and months, Julie returned to our shop for scheduled maintenance, always bringing with her a dozen chocolate chip cookies for me and our crew. I also had a chance to watch her two girls grow up through most of their elementary school years, until a few years later when I went back to school, changed careers, and ultimately became a writer.

And her ex-husband? He continued to visit our shop for servicing on a regular basis. See, he was also one of our customers. We never lost his business.

And our shop was always stocked with food from customers in the neighborhood.

This article first appeared on stevehawkinswrites.com.

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Steve Hawkins

Written by

Writer. Editor. Professional Explainer. I like to connect the dots and tell others what I found in the process.

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