The Cost of Honesty

The Cost of Honesty: A brief lesson on everyday integrity.
By Kathryn Lay

When I was a child, I thought as a child. Sometimes I took things from another child's hand when I wanted it. Once or twice, I took candy from a store. That ended the first time my mother caught me and sent me back to confess and apologize.

It wasn't much, about a penny's worth of thievery.

But is there such a thing as a "little dishonesty"?

Recently, I left the post office with a handful of stamps. Once I had stamped all my manuscripts, I found that I'd been given eight more stamps than I paid for. When I returned to the employee who had sold me the stamps, it took a lot of explaining to make him understand why I was returning them. "Why did you bring them back? No one would've known."

"It's the right thing to do," I explained, suddenly not even sure why I'd made the effort.

But my 12-year-old daughter nodded and smiled at me.

Should we go out of our way to be honest? After all, with the post office situation, I didn't steal the stamps; it was the postal worker who made the mistake. But does my honesty depend on the actions of another?

I can be dishonest. But I choose to be honest. When it's all said and done, how much is my dignity and self-respect worth? The cost of an outdated coupon or rebate on an item I didn't purchase?

It's easy to be honest when we're afraid of getting caught or into trouble. But, if it seems like a "sure thing," it's easy to convince ourselves that we're not being dishonest, someone else just wasn't being careful enough.

Is a lie always a lie?

The best lesson I had on honesty came several years back while on vacation in Wimberley, a charming town in southern Texas. The small square was filled with antique and craft shops. After an hour of shopping, my husband and I stopped for lunch in a café near the square. I was surprised when a woman entered the restaurant and walked over to our table.

"I'm sorry, but I shorted you on your change," she explained. Then she held out a $1 bill.
I recognized her from a candle shop we'd visited earlier. "But how did you know I'd be here?" I was flabbergasted. She had actually searched the shops to return a dollar. Honesty was very important to her.

On the other hand, a man I know returned a large television set to a department store and was given cash for his return. A month later, he noticed this amount had also been deleted from his credit card bill. He didn't bother contacting his credit card company.

Does God want me to be just a little honest? Or honest only in certain situations? Or only when someone is looking? How much dishonesty is too much? Sometimes I am the only person who knows whether I am being honest in a situation or not.

Do I keep extra change I'm given, cheat on my taxes, ignore the double credit on a credit card statement? Do I tell my daughter that a white lie is still a lie, but a few minutes later tell the police officer that my accelerator got stuck?

When did honesty become an endangered value?

Somewhere that man is proud of the $700 he cheated the department store out of and laughs about it with everyone he knows, even his daughter. Somewhere in Wimberley, Texas, there is a truly honest woman. I rejoice in sharing that story with my daughter.

If given a choice, I hope I'm the latter.

And that's the honest truth.

Kathryn Lay is a writer in Arlington, Texas.
Copyright © 2004 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian magazine.