Owl

When I was about 5 years old, I made a paper bag owl puppet in Sunday School. I was so proud of my owl puppet and had great plans to play with it at home.

Driving home with my mom and 12 year old sister, we had the windows down. And wouldn't you know it, a big gust of wind blew that owl right out of my hands and off to the side of the road.

My mom pulled over, and she and my sister helped me chase down that owl puppet and save it from doom. And that meant so much to me, so much so that 21 years later I'm still touched that they did that.

I can't imagine it was the greatest masterpiece; it was made by a five-year old. My mom must have known that it was something I'd throw out someday anyway. Or she could have just gotten out a paper bag at home and helped me re-create it. But she knew that owl - the one one the side of the road - was important to me.

That's an enormous amount of respect. When something that's important to someone else - regardless of how you view it - becomes something that you'll pull over and salvage from the side of the road.