***
Suddenly, my musing was noisily interrupted by a loud argument from two people walking in back of me! A woman was angrily accusing a man of having broken his promise to her. They were so preoccupied with their arguing that they both nearly tripped over my luggage! I now solemnly recalled how Scott had used a broken promise to teach me a tough lesson.
When I was eight years old I was an avid fan of Ice Hockey. My all-time favorite player was Wayne Gretzky. For Christmas when I was seven years old, Scott had given me a mint condition Wayne Gretzky rookie card sealed in an acrylic protective case. It was my most valued possession and I cherished it profoundly.
Scott's main house was in Willowdale. During winter, he assigned me the responsibility of shoveling the snow out of his driveway. Depending upon the amount of snow that fell at any given time, it could be a physically demanding task. He did pay me for the work, and my piggy bank was stuffed with ten-dollar bills as proof of my effort.
One day we had a heavy snowfall and he asked me to have it cleared out by a certain time. There was a playoff hockey game on television that I didn't want to miss, so I called up the next door neighbor—a boy I knew about my own age—and requested a favor. I asked him to shovel out the driveway for me. Of course I told him I would pay him the ten dollars that Scott would normally pay me. To this kid however, ten dollars wasn't going to be enough. There was 25 centimeters of snow on the ground and even though Scott's driveway wasn't all that big, it was still going to require time and effort to remove it. Plus, he was interested in watching the same hockey game—his team being on the opposing side! I doubled my offer to 20 dollars but he still refused. In an act of desperation I promised that if he shoveled the driveway, I would give him my Wayne Gretzky rookie card! This was an offer he couldn't resist. He knew I had it because I had let him touch it while his eyes lit up and he drooled in envy. As I watched my hockey team lose, he shoveled out the driveway. Then he came to collect the card. I handed him 20 dollars instead while thanking him.
"No way!" he protested. "Give me the Gretzky card that you promised!"
"No way," I said. "The payment is 20 dollars. Take it or leave it."
He knew I studied martial arts and so he was too intimidated to challenge me to a fight. But knowing Scott was home, he did the next best thing. He started to cry, or bawl, would be a more appropriate description. Scott came downstairs to see what all the commotion was about. The kid poured out his complaint and I told my side of the story. Scott looked at me and only wanted to know one thing; had I or had I not promised to give him the hockey card as payment. I had I conceded, but so what?
"Give him the card," Scott ordered.
I was stunned.
"Give him the card," he repeated.
Now I was the one who was bawling.
"But, you gave me… this card for Christmas and… and it's my most… prized… possession," I sobbed. Nevertheless, Scott would not yield. Reluctantly, I handed it over. Afterward, Scott took me aside, sat me down, and gently lectured me.
"Lance, when you promise to do something—when you give your word—you must follow through on it," he said. "Your word is your bond. Do you know what that means?"
"No," I answered, while wiping away tears.
"It means that if you make a promise your word binds you to it. It means that if you make a promise, you intend to keep it. It means that just by giving your word, the promise can be assured. Lance, I want you to be a man of honor and integrity. I want people to respect you as a trustworthy person. Never make a promise or give your word about something that you do not intend to keep. It's better not to promise, than to give your word and break it. Do you understand what I'm trying to teach you?"
I understood, and the sorrowful lesson I learned that day instilled within me one of the core values that defined my life.