by Carol Gustke

Created on: June 24, 2009   Last Updated: July 01, 2009

The Effects Of Morals Our Parents Taught Us

I'll never forget the day my Dad walked in on an argument I was having with my mother.

"You're an idiot," I shouted, and glared at her.

Suddenly, I felt myself being lifted up from the back of my blouse.

"Who's an idiot?," came my Dad's booming voice.

Frozen in fear, but conscious, my answer came quickly. "I am, I am."

My punishment was a five hundred word essay on the meaning of respect. This was a daunting task for a twelve year old. However, today, if I hear the word, "respect", I immediately have a reference point to draw from.

I wasn't allowed to date until the age of sixteen. There was no exception to this rule. At age fifteen, I accepted a ride home from a boy several years older than me. Nothing happened. It was just an innocent event. That night, as I tossed and turned in my bed, tormented by my disobedience, I finally padded across the hall to my parent's bedroom.

"Mom...Dad? I need to talk to you about something."

Hesitantly, I poured out the awful misdeed I had committed, and ended it with a plea for forgiveness. To others, my disobedience may seem innocent enough, and the rule somewhat narrow minded. But they were instilling a valuable moral into me. The incident itself was not the problem. I had broken their trust. And trust is the cornerstone of all healthy relationships.

Once finished with my spiel, Dad thanked me for telling the truth. He assured me there would be no retribution because I had been truthful.

Dad taught me good morals in humorous ways also. He continuously touted the importance of proper nutrition. His homemade stew contained every vegetable known to mankind. At first, we grudgingly spooned the watery gruel into our mouths. When he perceived our dutiful resignation to consume this "manna" from Heaven, a new approach was created.

"You will receive a dime for every ingredient you can name that's in this stew." Dad stood back to watch the reaction.

Suddenly, as if magic, our spoons dug deeper and deeper into this now, pot of gold.

"Celery, carrots, cabbage, bay leaf, tomatoes, potatoes, lentils, peas....." We never did identify all the ingredients, but we left the table with a smile on our faces, and our stomachs full. We learned that taking care of our bodies was an important moral obligation to ourselves.

During the summer months, Dad refereed our outdoor games. There was Basketball, Hide-And-Seek, Kick- The -Tin- Can, and Mother- May- I. Dad would perch himself on the front steps and call out the rules. "No double-dunking, no sky-rocketing, and no name-calling or excessive physical roughness." We learned that boundaries and rules were a good thing.

Moral were taught to us by my parent's examples. Once, after stopping for ice-cream cones, he noticed he had received twenty cents too much in return change. We were almost home. But Dad insisted on traveling the half hour back and make it right with the employee.

Today, I have a living legacy within me. I know instinctively what is right and what is wrong. Some may call me rigid, but my parents morals have served me well, and I'm thankful for them.

Learn more about this author, Carol Gustke.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.