Lesson #1: What Comes Around Goes Around 

Recess in third grade meant one thing and one thing only – marbles!! There were kid-made marble holes all over the playground. It got to be so big that playing marbles only at recess just wasn’t enough. Soon each house in the neighborhood had these same marble holes and we’d play from dinner time until the streetlights came on. 

I used an empty oatmeal container to hold my most prized marbles, the “jumbos.” My best friend, Stu, and I didn’t like to mess around with the small marbles so we’d play almost exclusively for jumbos. Two at a time, three at a time, four…whatever. Stu was kind of known as the neighborhood ace and I do admit he was pretty good. On one particular evening I had called him to come over and play marbles after dinner. While waiting for him to come screaming through our back yard on his bike, I decided to take a quick inventory. Recess had proven to be quite lucrative in the jumbo category over the past few days and I was proud of my current stock of 56 jumbos.

Stu soon arrived and we began our friendly dual. I’d win a match here and there, but overall I was getting destroyed. I could feel the oatmeal container getting lighter and lighter each time I went back to fill my pockets with jumbos. Stu knew he had me on a bad night and kept upping the ante.

“Each guy plays three this time,” he’d say.

I knew it wasn’t smart, but I’d go ahead and play anyway. Soon the streetlights came on and it was time for Stu to head home and for me to assess the damage. I sat down in the middle of our living room floor, dumped what was left in the oatmeal container, and stared down in disbelief. Slowly counting each jumbo one by one I came to the realization that what I sensed was happening was actually worse than I anticipated. My pre game count of 56 jumbos was now down to 16.

“Sixteen,” I whispered softly to no one in particular. “I’ve only got sixteen left”. With that, I started to cry and slowly returned each jumbo to the oatmeal container one by one. I was about half finished when Dad came into the living room from the kitchen.

“Got cleaned out tonight, huh?” he said with a smile.

 With a smile. Why is he smiling? This is devastating to a third grader and he’s smiling? 

“Yeah, I did. Stu took almost all of them,” I said trying to be audible with the choppy breath and “crying stutter” kids get when they’re really upset.

“He won almost all of them, you mean?” Dad asked.

“Yeah, he won almost all of them,” I replied as I dropped my sixteenth, and last, jumbo back into the oatmeal container. 

“Well, you’ll get another chance and next time it will be different. You will be in a situation where you’ve cleaned someone out, too, so remember the feeling now and do your best to not let it happen the next time,” Dad said.  

I didn’t truly believe it at the time, but Dad was right. Stu and I played again and it was different. I don’t know that I won all 40 of my jumbos back, but there were definitely days when he felt cleaned out.

A bad day today doesn’t mean a bad day tomorrow. Learn from your setbacks and use them as motivation.