Letter From America: The Wisdom Of Solomon's Mother
Speaking the truth will save you a whole lot of trouble and embarrassment says Ronnie Bray in this laugh-out-loud column.
Patrick Hastings was arguably the best-known British barrister of the 20th century. During an oft-quoted case, he asked the plaintiff, a boy who was seeking damages for injury following an accident, "How high can you lift your arm?"
The boy, grimacing in pain, raised his arm slowly until it was almost level with his shoulder, and announced pathetically, "Only this high."
Hastings nodded sympathetically, and then in lowered voice asked considerately, "How high could you raise it before the accident?"
The boy immediately swung his ‘injured’ arm high above his head, and smiled, "This high!"
Hastings, returning the smile, rested his case. Often, an unexpected question or statement will elicits an unintended flurry of honesty.
Take, as another example, the mysterious case of Nathan, the motorist, and the eggs. Nathan was a handsome young man of eighteen. He was gregarious, good-humoured, and had a streak of wickedness that was not so broad to make him a bad boy, just impishly mischievous, but on the egging occasion he crossed the line and brought the police to his family’s home for the first time, notwithstanding that he had three older siblings.
The policeman explained to his shocked parents that a motorist whose car had been pelted with chicken fruit said he thought the culprits were Nathan and two of his friends. Nathan strenuously denied the charge and because of the doubtful testimony of the victim, no charges were laid, the policeman went away, and the matter was laid to rest – almost.
Nathan’s mother knew her children and there is no recorded instance of any of them getting away with anything. As the police car disappeared down the hill, she turned to Nathan, looking him squarely in the eyes and said emphatically, "You did it!"
"I didn’t, Mum," he said, equally insistent.
"Oh, yes you did!" she responded with increased emphasis, continuing, "And you not only lied about it, but you stole eggs from my fridge to do it!"
"Oh, no I didn’t," he returned, now with a triumphant lilt in his voice, "I bought them from ASDA!"
Nathan’s mother rested her case – but only after she had lectured him on her disappointment, his upbringing, vandalism in general, and veracity in particular.
So, whether a distinguished barrister questions you, or your mother is the inquisitor, speaking the truth will save you a lot of trouble and a whole lot more embarrassment.
Copyright © 2005 – Ronnie Bray
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
