When I was eighteen, one week before the college entrance exam that would determine what college I could attend, I went to play basketball. I fell and broke my right wrist—the hand I wrote with. The pain in my arm was not what frightened me most. I could only think, “How can I go home and tell my parents?” I was sure they would be disappointed and angry that I had played basketball at such an important time.
I did go home and tell them the truth, because there was nothing else I could do. They did not get angry. They felt sorry for me and asked whether I was in pain. They did not mention the exam. I knew they must have felt sad about it, but they did not make me carry that disappointment. I had to prepare for another year, and I took the exam again successfully. My parents never blamed me. They supported me through that whole year, and I felt backed up. That support was an important reason I succeeded.
What I learned is that when people love each other, we should trust that love, especially when we are having a bad time. Sometimes we make mistakes, sometimes we are unlucky, and things do not turn out well. But the people who love us may care about our pain before they care about what went wrong. I wanted to hide because I was afraid of blame. Instead, I found that being honest let my parents support me. That is the kind of love I try to trust now.
When I was eighteen, one week before the college entrance exam that would determine what college I could attend, I went to play basketball. I fell and broke my right wrist—the hand I wrote with. The pain in my arm was not what frightened me most. I could only think, “How can I go home and tell my parents?” I was sure they would be disappointed and angry that I had played basketball at such an important time.
I did go home and tell them the truth, because there was nothing else I could do. They did not get angry. They felt sorry for me and asked whether I was in pain. They did not mention the exam. I knew they must have felt sad about it, but they did not make me carry that disappointment. I had to prepare for another year, and I took the exam again successfully. My parents never blamed me. They supported me through that whole year, and I felt backed up. That support was an important reason I succeeded.
What I learned is that when people love each other, we should trust that love, especially when we are having a bad time. Sometimes we make mistakes, sometimes we are unlucky, and things do not turn out well. But the people who love us may care about our pain before they care about what went wrong. I wanted to hide because I was afraid of blame. Instead, I found that being honest let my parents support me. That is the kind of love I try to trust now.
