Awards pale next to pearls of wisdom

She had never imagined herself as the recipient of some academic achievement award. Nor did she dream of being honored as a star athlete. She knew such honors were beyond her grasp. As she entered her last year of high school, however, there was one award, she confessed, which she coveted.

It was called the Pearl Ring award, given to the graduating senior who displayed the most commitment to public service. It probably was not an award most students sought; it certainly wasn't a reward that carried with it the recognition and prestige of academic or athletic honors. It was the reward, however, which meant the most to her.

It wasn't hard to understand why. She had watched her father, a teacher at the high school, give unselfishly of his time and energy to a host of community volunteer groups and charities.

He was always willing to step forward in their small-town Methodist church and take on an extra job, whether it meant serving on a board or cleaning up after a potluck dinner. And she saw how he spent extra hours helping out around the school - serving on committees, sponsoring clubs, tutoring students, mentoring new teachers.

In her own quiet and unassuming way her mother, too, had modeled such a commitment to service.

Whether it was serving as room mom, neighborhood chauffeur or as the behind-the-scenes "do anything for anyone" parent volunteer, her mother always seemed to be doing something for somebody.

Service was in her blood. And she had tried to emulate her parents, both out of a sincere admiration for the values they lived by as well as out of that need for approval that all adolescent girls bring to their relationships with their fathers and mothers.

The Pearl Ring award, then, would not only be her honor but theirs, too. It would show her dad and mom just how much she admired and loved them. And they would be so proud of her.

The entire student body voted for the Pearl Ring recipient. She was so excited when she saw her name on the list of seniors put forward. And, as the day for voting approached, she even began to hope that she might be the winner.

When it was time to cast her own vote, she did what she had been always taught: "vote for your 'opponent;' it is a sign of both humility and respect." She cast her vote and held her breath.

The morning of the Senior Awards Assembly, she was surprised to see a small package left for her on her nightstand. When she opened it she found inside a dainty pearl ring.

She knew exactly what this meant. She had not been chosen. Somehow her father, who at times seemed omniscient, knew that the award had gone to another candidate. And her parents, being who they were, had bought this ring as a symbol of their love and admiration for her.

There was yet another lesson for her that day. Hoping to soften the blow of her loss, her father shared with her that she had, in fact, been one of the leading candidates for the honor. In fact, he confided, she had lost by only one vote.

The irony. Had she not honored her parents' values in voting for someone else, she would have been tied for the award. She would have been one of two Pearl Ring recipients at the ceremony. As it was she had only such a "what if" to comfort her as she sat in the bleachers that afternoon.

As the years have passed, my friend has come to realize that she has a much greater comfort than the Pearl Ring award. She has a pearl ring of her own that is of infinitely more value. This ring, now somewhat tarnished with age, represents to her a set of values she still lives by, and the unconditional love and approval of the two people whose votes mattered most.

• The Rev. Ken Potts' new book, "Mix, Don't Blend: A Guide to Dating, Engagement, and Remarriage with Children," is available through book retailers.