One of the qualities that most people admire in others is the willingness to admit one's mistakes. It is extremely hard sometimes to say a simple thing like "I was wrong about that." I had an experience recently with someone admitting to me that he had made a mistake 15 years ago. He told me he had been the manager of a certain grocery store in the neighborhood where I grew up, and he asked me if I remembered the egg boxes. Then he related an incident and I began to remember vaguely what happened. I was about eight years old then, and I had gone into the store with mother to do the weekly grocery shopping. There must have been a special sale on eggs that day because there was an impressive display of eggs in dozen and half dozen boxes. I must have stopped in front of a display to admire the eggs. Just then a woman came by pushing her grocery cart and knocked off some of the boxes. For some reason, I decided it was up to me to put the display back together, so I went to work. The manager came rushing over to see what had happened. When he appeared, I was on my knees inspecting some of the boxes to see if any of the eggs were broken. But to him it looked as though I was the wrong-doer. He yelled at me and wanted me to pay for any broken eggs. I protested my innocence and tried to explain, but it did no good. Even though I quickly forgot all about the incident, apparently the manager did not.