Their faces fell as the realization hit: they hadn’t packed him up—they’d packed themselves out.
Later, my father explained with a quiet twinkle in his eye, “I wasn’t angry. I just wanted them to understand that respect isn’t a one-way street.”
It was a lesson delivered not through confrontation, but through grace. In that moment, I realized something profound: wisdom doesn’t need to raise its voice. It waits. It observes. And when the time is right, it speaks with quiet clarity, leaving no room for doubt.
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