Mother and the Donkey Cart

One upon a time, when I was a little girl, a fellow brought a donkey cart down our street, taking pictures of kids sitting in his cart.  All the kids on the street were getting their pictures taken, so we ran into the house to beg mom to let us do it, too. 

"No," she said.

"Come on,  mom, please!" we begged.  "The man doesn't charge you to just sit in his cart, he only charges if you buy the pictures.  It won't cost anything to just let us climb up in the cart and sit for a minute."

"No," mom said again.  She was in the middle of ironing, and not in a particulary happy mood at the moment.  Thinking she would change her mind if she actually went outside and saw how cute the donkey was, we pulled on her arm and begged her to just come outside and see.

"I'm not going outside," mother told us in a no-nonsence voice, "and you are not going to take a ride in the donkey cart, so stop asking."

"But why," we pestered.  "It doesn't cost anything to just sit in the cart.  The McLaws's are doing it, and the Nears and all the other kids.  None of their parents are buying the pictures, either.  The man said it was free to just sit in his cart!  Come on!"

"No," mom repeated for the last time.  "Why do you think that man brought his donkey down our street in the first place?  So he could earn some money.  I would be being dishonest if I let you kids go sit in his cart, knowing I wasn't going to buy his pictures.  I'd be cheating him out of his time, and using him just so you could have some fun.  You may not climb up in that donkey cart, and that's final."

I've never forgotten that day, or that lesson.  It would have been easier for mom to let us go along with the rest of the kids, we were pretty cross the rest of the day, and it wouldn't have cost her anything, but she had integrity.  She knew she wasn't going to buy the pictures, and she wouldn't take advantage of the doney man.