The traffic was heavy. The commute into town had taken longer than usual. We rushed into the pediatric dental office at 9:28 a.m. for a 9:30 a.m. appointment. I signed the patient register for my seven-year-old, cavity-prone son while he bobbed up-and-down peering over the counter and visiting with the receptionist. Then Mark stood on a chair to admire a reflection dish that looked as if it was filled with coins. It is a conversation piece that decorates the reception counter; a few coins in the bottom of the dish appear in a kaleidoscope motif around the sides of the dish and seem to fill the saucer to the brim. It is a fascinating piece that Mark and I admire each time we enter the dentist’s office. However, since we arrived in the nick of time, Mark’s admiring gaze was cut short. The dental assistant opened the door, smiled, and called “Mark Taylor.” I put down my pen and sat in a chair in the waiting room. The dental assistant ushered my son back to the dentist’s chair to have a cavity filled and a crown put on a back molar.

I waited for about forty-five minutes. The dental assistant reappeared, “Dr. “D” will see you now.” The dentist explained to chipmunk-cheeked Mark that the anesthetic would wear off in about an hour. He forewarned us that Mark might experience a little soreness on the left side of his jaw. Dr. “D” suggested I give Mark some pain medication, such as acetaminophen or ibuprofen, in about an hour to ease the transition of his mouth awakening. Dr. “D” also added that lunch should consist of soup or something easy to chew and that Mark should chew on the right side of his mouth until the numbness subsided. Mark didn’t like the fact that chewy candy caramels were on the list of forbidden treats. When Dr. “D” issued the bad news, I could see the tears welling in Mark’s eyes.

“Yucky soup for lunch and no more candy. That stinks!” he said as we got into the car.

“Oh, I’ll bet we’ll find lots of things that you can eat.” I reassured him.

We ran several errands on the way home. I wanted to keep Mark under observation to make sure he didn’t bite his tongue or lip while his mouth was still numb. We stopped at a nearby pharmacy to pick up some children’s acetaminophen. I measured two teaspoons in the dosage cup and he drank it in the car. Then we made the twenty-minute drive to our suburb and ran a few quick errands.

“Now, how about lunch?” I asked over my shoulder. Mark perked up.

“Can I have a soft taco? I’m really hungry, Mom.”

"Hum. I guess you could handle a ground beef taco in a soft tortilla if you chew carefully on the right side.”

Mark perked up. “Okay. I can do that.”

We drove to his favorite Mexican restaurant and ordered a soft taco with rice and beans. He pouted as he passed up the chips and salsa and opted to sip his drink instead. However, his eyes lit up when the waitress brought his lunch. Even with a sore mouth, he ate every bite on his plate and asked for more.

“I think you’ve had a sufficient amount. Let’s see how that settles before you eat anything more.” I asked the waitress for the check, paid the bill, and left. “I think you could return to school now, Mark."

“Do I have to? I think I have a stomach ache.”

“We’ll stop by the house and pick up your backpack. You can use the restroom; then I’m sure your tummy will feel better. You have work to catch up on from what you’ve missed this morning.”

At home, Mark went into the powder room and admired the silver crown on his lower left molar. “I look like a superhero, Mom. That’s my secret power tooth! It gives me energy.”

“Good. Then you can put that energy to good use at school. Gather up your things.”

“Just a minute. I want to put this away first.” Mark said as he pulled a coin from his pocket.

“Where did you get that quarter?” I queried.

“I found it at the dentist’s office.”

“Oh? Where?”

“I found a hole in the reflecting dish, and out it came!”

“Mark Taylor, you didn’t!”

“Yes. I reached in and it came right out just like magic! Isn’t that cool?”

“Let’s sit down a minute son. We need to talk this through. You’ve made a big mistake here. The coins belong in the dish at the dentist’s office. You’ve taken something from Dr. “D” that doesn’t belong to you, and that is stealing.”

“We’ll give it back. Here I’ll get an envelope and we can mail it back to him. Then I can go back to school. Then everything will be like it was.”

"No. I am going to drive you back to the dentist’s office where you can explain to the receptionist what you’ve done and replace the coin in the dish where it belongs.”

“No. I can’t do that, Mom!”

“Yes you can, and you will. It is the right thing to do.”

It was a silent twenty-minute drive back to the dentist’s office. When we arrived the office door was open but the staff was at lunch. They would return in about five minutes.

“Let me just go sneak over there and put it back. Then we can leave, Mom.” Mark swallowed hard and battled back the tears.

“No, son. We’ll wait for the receptionist to return in five minutes. Then you can explain your actions and replace the coin.”

“But I don’t want to explain. She’ll think I’m bad.”

“No. She’ll know then that you are an honest boy who has learned to respect other people’s property.”

“You think so?”

“I’m sure of it.”

Mark climbed into my lap for a hug of reassurance. He mustered his courage and tried to be brave about being accountable for his actions. Fear mounted as the seconds ticked by. It was the longest five-minute wait of his life!

The receptionist returned to her desk. “Weren’t you just here, Mrs. Taylor?” she asked. “Is anything wrong?”

“No. The tooth is fine. Mark has an appointment with honesty.”

A puzzled looked crossed the receptionist’s face. We stood. Mark dropped the quarter and struggled to pick it up from the floor. I held him up so that he would be eye-level with the receptionist. Mark’s hand quivered. His bottom lip would have had it not been numb.

“I accidentally picked this up. It doesn’t belong to me. So, I’m gonna put it back where I found it.” Mark jumped from my arms, placed the coin into the reflection dish, and tearfully ran out the dentist’s office and onto the sidewalk outside.

“Mrs. Taylor. You didn’t have to drive back into town for a quarter,” she said.

“Yes. We did. It isn’t the value of the coin. It is the value of the lesson.” I replied.

“My mother taught my brother a similar lesson over a pack of gum. He still remembers it today, twenty years later!”

“I have a young man to catch up with. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Mrs. Taylor. Tell Mark we’re proud of him for doing the right thing.”

“Thank you. I will.”

My heart ached as I glanced in the rearview mirror. Mark cried most of the twenty-minute ride home.

“The receptionist told me to thank you for returning the coin and to tell you that she was proud you for being accountable for your actions.”

“Really?” he sniffed.

“I’m so proud of you son. Today you learned the importance of honesty. It takes a big person to admit they’ve done something wrong and steps to make amends for it. Not everyone would have been brave enough to face the truth. Sometimes doing the right thing isn’t always the easiest thing to do.”

“Do I have to go to school now?”

“No, son. By the time you arrived at school, the bell would ring for you to be dismissed. I think we’ll just go home and have a dish of ice cream. You can watch the afternoon shows on television. How’s that?”

“Okay Mom. I’m sorry I made a mistake.”

“We all make mistakes, Mark. It’s how you grow from each mistake that counts, and that’s more valuable than a zillion quarters!”