One of the qualities that most people admire in others is the willingness to admit one's mistakes.
It is extremely hard sometimes to say a simple thing like "I was wrong about that."
I had an experience recently with someone admitting to me that he had made a mistake 15 years ago.
He told me he had been the manager of a certain grocery store in the neighborhood where I grew up,
and he asked me if I remembered the egg boxes.
Then he related an incident and I began to remember vaguely what happened.
I was about eight years old then, and I had gone into the store with mother to do the weekly grocery shopping.
There must have been a special sale on eggs that day
because there was an impressive display of eggs in dozen and half dozen boxes.
I must have stopped in front of a display to admire the eggs.
Just then a woman came by pushing her grocery cart and knocked off some of the boxes.
For some reason, I decided it was up to me to put the display back together, so I went to work.
The manager came rushing over to see what had happened.
When he appeared, I was on my knees inspecting some of the boxes to see if any of the eggs were broken.
But to him it looked as though I was the wrong-doer.
He yelled at me and wanted me to pay for any broken eggs.
I protested my innocence and tried to explain, but it did no good.
Even though I quickly forgot all about the incident, apparently the manager did not.