How Getting Rear-Ended Taught Me a Lesson on Forgiveness
Let's all try to strive to be more kind, compassionate, and forgiving to each other.
When I was in high school, driving to school was a big deal. Unless I had a specific reason for why I needed to use the car, I had to take the bus. So, naturally, I came up with any and every reason why I needed it: staying after school for extra help, working a shift right after school, or hanging out with friends, to name a few.
Those mornings and afternoons driving the 15 minutes to schools were blissful. From the moment I sat behind the wheel for the first time, I fell in love with driving. The smoothness of the steering wheel, the sound of the directional rhythmically clicking on, then off, the ability to turn my music up as loud as I wanted. I loved the feeling of control, as well as the solitude it provided me — a moment to stop rushing around, and to simply and intently focus on just one thing.
One morning, during my senior year of high school, I had made another convincing argument to take the car to school. Like a typical senior in the springtime, I wasn’t in any sort of rush. My eyes felt heavy and strained in the bright morning light, and I was still waking up as I followed the familiar path to school.
About halfway through my drive, as I was contemplating stopping for coffee, I noticed the car behind me driving erratically. The driver was weaving back and forth from the curb to the edge of the lane, and following me far too closely. They’re going to hit me, I thought for a moment. We arrive at a stop sign where I’m planning to take a right turn. After stopping, I slowly accelerated into the turn. Before completing the turn, I hear the sounds of a collision, and I am jolted slightly towards the steering wheel. As expected, the driver behind me had tailed me through the four-way stop and collided with the back end of my car.
I pull over, she pulls over; I get out, she gets out, frantically. Like many overconfident and under-skilled seventeen-year-olds, I had already rear-ended someone myself, so I was familiar with the process that comes next. I went to look at the back end of my car, and was met immediately with a rush of apologies. The girl told me she was also on her way to the high school, that she was taking a test that day and was going to be late, and now, probably even later.
There are many ways I could have handled this situation. I could have acted like I was a ‘seasoned’ driver, telling her she needs to be more careful, that driving needs to be taken seriously. I could have reacted with anger at the fact that my car’s bumper was scratched up, all because someone else was in a rush. But ultimately, what are a couple scratches and a minor inconvenience? I understood making a mistake, especially making one due to my own poor judgement. I knew exactly how this girl would feel, having to have this unpleasant interaction, exchange insurance information, and worry all throughout her test about how her parents will react. So, I smiled, looked at my car, looked at her car, and told her it was fine. No harm done. She got back in her car and drove away, much more cautiously this time.
Am I saying that if someone T-bones you and destroys the passenger side of your car, that you should give them a warm smile and say “no worries, dude”? No. Definitely not. Insurance exists for a reason, and dangerous drivers should be held accountable. However, I have witnessed, on more than one occasion, people blowing up at others over the smallest scratches or dents to their cars. My ex-boyfriend and I were in a parking lot once, about to head into a store. It was an unusually windy day, and as he was trying to close his door, it accidentally tapped the side of another car. The woman immediately blew up, said it was a good thing she was there because otherwise he would’ve just run off, and when he told her his name for insurance purposes, she said, “yeah, right, I’m sure that’s your real name.” All of this over a scratch the length of a dime.
Why are we so angry at each other? Why are we so fiercely protective of our material possessions? Why are we so untrusting? It would take me many more words to fully dive into these questions, but one thing that has stuck with me ever since that accident in high school, is that we all could stand to practice a little more forgiveness.
We’ve all been in situations where we’ve messed up, and hoped for compassion. We’ve all caused some type of problem because we did something dumb — we’ve all gotten too distracted while driving, said something accidentally hurtful, acted in selfish ways. Why do so many of us hold others to a higher standard than we hold ourselves?
My point here today is to act with kindness, compassion, and forgiveness as often as possible. What are a few scratches on a car, in the long run? It’s a car, for god sakes, you’re driving it over potholes and through hailstorms and parking it on crowded asphalt. This kind of compassion shouldn’t just be reserved for friends and family and whoever else you deem worthy. It’s for strangers and people who you don’t like, for the aggravating regular at your favorite coffee shop, for people who hit your car because they’re not paying attention, even for people who are rude to you for no reason. Whenever you remember to, take a step back from your own emotions and consider the other person, the other human being with thoughts and feelings and nerves and regret in front of you, and treat them with kindness and act in forgiveness. The world needs a lot more of that.