Oh, no. Please, no. Please, please no! My dad is never going to let me drive again. After my sister and I rushed out of our car, I asked her to look at the damage because I was too scared. By the look on her face, I could tell it was bad. My sister and I looked at each other, and I knew we were thinking the same thing: Dad is going to be so mad.

It was a warm spring day, and I was driving my older sister to the hotel where Passover would be held. As I drove, we talked and laughed, using some of our old inside jokes. Things were going perfectly well—until we arrived at the hotel and couldn’t find anywhere to park. After 10 minutes of searching, we finally found the perfect parking spot. Little did I know … it wasn’t. As I started to pull in, I realized it was a little tighter than I thought. But I didn’t think that much of it. I continued pulling into the spot, which was a bad decision.

Then, I heard it. It was the sound of my car’s front bumper scraping against the tire of the car in front of us. I slammed on the brakes. I looked over at my sister, who was already looking at me. Her eyes were wider than the Grand Canyon.

I just crashed my car. I ruined the bumper. My insurance! Oh no, please no. Dad is going to go insane. What did I just do? All these thoughts raced through my head as I stared at my car in complete shock. My sister said, “I can tell Dad if you want.” Someone has to tell Dad. Someone has to physically tell him. Like, with words. I just looked at her and nodded. However, I felt too guilty not to tell my dad.

When my sister and I got home that night, I worked up all of my courage and went to my dad. I told him the whole story and made sure to mention no one was injured, except the car. To my surprise, he didn’t yell. He didn’t get incredibly mad and take away my driving privileges. He was very calm, and his main concern was whether my sister and I were okay. I was shocked by his reaction. I thought he would at least take my keys. Instead, he was just a little sad that the car had quite a big dent in it.

This whole ordeal taught me that my parents will always have my back. There will be times when we make mistakes, and we don’t want to tell our parents because we’re afraid of the consequences. But our parents have our best interests at heart. Sure, my dad was a little upset at first, but he was quick to forgive me. If I hadn’t been honest with him, he would’ve been upset and probably would’ve taken my car keys.

We are incredibly blessed to have parents who love us enough to correct us when we need it, but also to forgive us. Our parents are there to help us when we make mistakes. Take advantage of the authority that God has placed over you. Embrace it! Be honest with your parents, even if you’re afraid of the consequences. You might be surprised at their reaction.