Over summer vacation many years ago, my father and I traveled to St. Andrews, Scotland to play one of the original golf courses. In contrast to the ancient feeling of the course, the facilities were fairly high-tech.
One of the many great devices we were given was an electronic pushcart, fully fitted with flashing lights and, more importantly, changing speeds. Equipped with the hubris of a nine-year-old, I turned the dial to the highest speed and let it fly, already knowing that its pace would be no match for my super-speed—big mistake.
The cart zoomed past, racing across the fairway, and aimed directly for the green (for the non-golfers, it’s important to note the green is hallowed ground). The cart reached its destination and began to wreak havoc. It spun over and over again, with each twirl causing more and more destruction to the precious grass below. I was distraught. My father was amused. “The grass will grow back,” he said. “It always does.”
The grass and I both sat in a state of devastation. Needless to say, the day was ruined, and I was in tears. I often let my mistakes consume me to a suffocating point. Mistakes feel insurmountable. Yet at this moment, as I sat teary-eyed in mounds of ripped-up grass, my dad passed down a crucial lesson. Don’t let your mistakes consume you. Learn from them.
Just like my dad said: the grass will grow back, it always does.
Thomas Schramm is a recently graduated high school senior and upcoming freshman at Washington University in St. Louis.
