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, "and it is even harder to say, "I was wrong, and you were right about that. " I had an experience recently with someone admitting to me that he had made a mistake fifteen 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 cartons  . Then he related an incident and I began to remember clearly the incident he was describing. I was about eight years old at the time, and I had gone into the store with my mother to do the weekly grocery shopping. On that particular day, I must have found my way to the dairy food department where the incident took place. There must have been a special sale on eggs that day because there was an impressive display of eggs in dozen and half-dozen cartons. The cartons were stacked three or four feet high. I must have stopped in front of a display to admire the stacks. Just then a woman came by pushing her grocery cart and knocked off the stacks of cartons. For some reason, I decided it was up to me to put the display back together, so I went to work. The Manager heard the noise and came rushing over to see what had happened. When he appeared, I was on my knees inspecting (examining)some of the cartons to see if any of the eggs were broken, but to him it looked as though I was the criminal. He severely scolded 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, obviously the manager did not. Who was to blame for knocking off the stacks of cartons?
The author. The manager. The woman. The author's mother.