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The story goes of two old ranchers trading off their land. They promised with a handshake. Something we don’t understand.
Both cowboys stood true to their word. A handshake was the rule. They’d both learned honesty was better than a crooked fool.
In the good old days a promise with a handshake closed the deal. It didn’t need a witness with a signature and seal.
But time and personalities have pushed the trusted line. We fudge a little here and there. Declare, “It’s all just fine.”
To say your word is worth the paper that it’s written on, requires the most integrity. Those days of trust are gone.
Now when we make a promise, shake our hands the golden style. You gotta wonder what’s behind the corners of a smile.
Our attorneys give us council. They are masters of the law. Do we heed their sound advice or push the trusted line to raw?
Integrity will show the world what kind of man you are. ‘Cuz John Q. Public turns away if you ain’t no shining star.
Grandma taught me, “Reputation follows you around. If your work is so darned shady, brother, you are going down.
“But if you’ve worked to keep your name with honest country souls, your reflection in the mirror shows what the world already knows.”
My father’s words were, “Keep your promise. Show integrity. Your reputation’s earned if you’re one crooked SOB.
“If your handshake causes you to lose a little cash. Remember, keep your promise. Then your name no one can bash.
“Don’t forget the little guy. We tend to overlook. Keep your promise to be fair and he won’t feel like he’s been took.”
His words were so compelling like a punched and bloody nose. Or when I yelled at Mom. She spanked me with the garden hose.
I told my father I would always think of his good name. I made a promise that I’d keep a good name just the same.
And when I go to bed at night there’s one thing I don’t fear. ‘Cuz Grandma got it right as I gaze squarely in the mirror.