Once upon a time as I grew up as a little boy in the caribbean, my father always told me something like that. “Son, no matter what choice somebody makes, there’s always a price to pay for that action”. My father was very strict and a religious man although he went to church occasionally. Any time I did something wrong, my father punished me severely. Even though I knew that my father was disciplinary man, but I was still doing the wrong thing because I’ve never learned. Some neighbor told my dad that I was too young to understand the right from the wrong. Moreover, I was acting the same way like the adult that kept violating the speeding limit even though they knew that they could get a ticket for that. One day, as I was playing around with my friends, I threw a rock on the neighbor’s window and I ran away. As my father approached to the house, I heard the neighbor telling him about the window that I broke couple hours ago. So, I put two more clothes as an extra protection on me because I knew that my father was going to punish me once he got inside. My father went inside and he called me in a harsh tone and I thought that day would be my last for what I did. I approached toward him trembling like a little tree, then surprisingly, I saw my father crying instead of punishing me. I saw tears flowing on my father’s face like a river while talking to me. He asked why I kept doing the wrong thing although I knew that I was going to be punish after that. When I saw my father crying, his tears punished me more than he used to because it was so touching. After that day, I decided that I would never do anything to upset my father ever again.