Jason’s choice: How simple moral decisions define who we are | Opinion

Are there moments that define us? Moments when we have a choice to make that will reach far beyond the boundary of a certain day or time or place? A specific decision that will put us on one side or the other of a ledger that defines eternal values?

I know a young man — 24 years old at the time — who, on a seemingly ordinary day, faced this type of extraordinary decision. What he chose that day would define who he was deep at the center of his being. He would live with the ramifications of that decision every day, and he would sleep with them at night.

On one side of that decision lay significant monetary gain coupled with the effort required to rationalize a decision known to be less than honorable.

On the other side of that decision lay empty pockets coupled with a clear conscience — and, perhaps, a bit of concern about going against a direct order from his immediate supervisor.

The young man was my son, Jason, and he was new on the job. After completing his degree at California State Polytechnic University in San Luis Obispo, he was hired by Granite Construction Co. in Southern California.

Shortly after the terrorist attack on Sept. 11, 2001, Jason was transferred to Granite’s Heavy Civil Division in New York City. It was the work he had long dreamed of doing in a mesmerizing city where subways and bridges are endemic.

On the day in question, Jason was called into his boss’ office and told to load up all the scrap copper accumulated during the job they had just completed. He was to then take the load to the recycler, redeem it and ask for the proceeds to be issued to him in cash. He was further told that he would be nicely recompensed for doing this task exactly as instructed.

Jason followed his boss’ instructions — up to a certain point. The copper was loaded, and Jason then drove it to the recycler. He watched as the copper was weighed and the redemption value was calculated. He then asked that a check be issued to Granite Construction.

The boss was not in his office when Jason returned to the job site, so he placed the check in the middle of his supervisor’s desk and went back to his regular responsibilities.

Later that day, Jason was called back into the boss’ office to face a man barely able to contain his rage. Through gritted teeth, his boss asked, “What didn’t you understand about my instructions? I told you to bring the proceeds back to me in cash. I told you that you would benefit, right along with me, remember?”

Jason calmly responded from a heart not complicated by indecision, “I understood what you said, boss, but I knew the money belonged to Granite, not to you or me.”

To which the man in direct authority over him in his new dream job said, “Take this check back to them and have them pay you in cash. A big part of your success at this company depends on my assessment of your performance. You know that, don’t you? You need to play the game by my rules if you want to succeed here.”

Apparently, Jason was not tempted in the least to do something he knew to be wrong, even when ordered to do exactly that by the man to whom he answered.

Without qualm, Jason responded, “I know you’re my boss, and I understand what you’re telling me to do. But I cannot do it because I want to sleep at night. That’s more important to me than any amount of money or the rules of anyone else’s gameplan.”

Later, when Jason was telling me this story, I asked, “Weren’t you afraid to cross someone who had that much power over you?”

Without hesitating, this young man that I loved immensely responded, “Mom, there was no choice, really. I did what was obviously laid out in front of me. It was easy.”

Do our children sometimes teach us an important life lesson by simply following their own heart? Mine have.

Bunny Stevens lives in Modesto, her hometown, and has served on The Modesto Bee Community Advisory Board. She is the opening courtesy clerk at the Safeway supermarket on McHenry Avenue and an ordained minister in the Universal Life Church. Reach her at BunnyinModesto@gmail.com