O
nce, as a teenager, my father and I were standing in line to buy tickets for the circus. Finally, there was only one family between us and the ticket counter. There were eight children, all under the age of 12. I could tell they didn’t have a lot of money. Their clothes were frayed but clean, and the children were well-behaved – all of them standing in line, two-by-two holding hands in back of the parents. They were jabbering about the clowns, elephants and other acts they would see that night. I sensed they had never been to the circus before. This promised to be a highlight of their young lives.
The father and mother were at the head of the pack standing proud as could be, the mother looking at her husband as if to say, ‘You’re my knight in shining armor.” He was smiling and basking in pride, as if to reply, “You got that right.”
The ticket lady asked the father how many tickets he wanted. He proudly responded, “Please let me buy eight children tickets and two adult tickets.”
As the ticket lady quoted the price, the wife let go of her husband’s hand, her head dropped, the man’s lip began to quiver. The father leaned a little closer and asked, “How much did you say?”
The ticket lady again quoted the price.
The man didn’t have enough money.
How was he supposed to turn and tell his children that he couldn’t afford to take them to the circus?
Seeing what was going on, my dad put his hand into his pocket, pulled out a $20 bill and dropped it on the ground. We were not wealthy in any sense of the word. Then my dad reached down, picked up the bill, tapped the man on the shoulder and said, “Excuse me, sir, this fell out of your pocket.”
The man knew what was going on. He wasn’t begging for a handout but he certainly appreciated the help in a desperate, heartbreaking, embarrassing situation. He looked straight into my dad’s eyes, took my dad’s hand in both of his and squeezed it tightly. With a tear streaming down his cheek, he replied, ‘Thank you, thank you, sir. This really means the world to me and my little family.’
My father and I went back to our car and drove home. We didn’t go to the circus that night, but we didn’t go without.
Understanding that who is right is not as important as what is right – this is the secret to effective leadership, management, parenting, teaching and coaching. It’s amazing how much we can accomplish if we simply focus on leaving everyone we meet in better shape than we found them.