My pick up truck was sleek and elegant and her name was Eleanor.  Eleanor's only fault was that she was rear-wheel drive.  After two very slippery winters in Michigan, it was time for us to part ways.  She and I had been together for 7 years and 100,00 miles.  It was already an emotional day when I began looking for Eleanor's replacement.  But it got worse. 

In doing a title research, we discovered that as a young truck, Eleanor had to be returned to the dealer three times for an unknown problem.  With vehicles, like ball players, three strikes and they're out.  Eleanor was branded as a lemon.  The "Lemon Law" didn't exist when I purchased her, so I never knew.  But today, it must be divulged to all prospective buyers and it devalues the vehicle greatly. 

I was crushed that my Eleanor had been so harshly branded.  She never behaved like a lemon.  She had served me well, and will serve her next owner just as well.  What a lesson in the cruelty of labels.  How many times have we unjustly labled someone based on little or incorrect information?  "He's a racist."  "She's cheap." Really? 

To be willing to understand our fellow human beings takes a courageous effort.  My mother was really good at that.  If I felt a teacher had been overly strict, mom would say, "Maybe she had an argument with her husband before school."  If a store clerk was rude, she would suggest, "Maybe her feet hurt."  Mom was very careful not to label people until she had, as she put it, "walked a mile in their moccasins."

And when we realize that someone has been unjustly labeled, are we courageous enough to stand up and defend them?  There have been those in history who have lost their lives doing just that.  Certainly we can scrounge up enough courage to shine a positive light on someone we know deserves it.

As a salute to my Eleanor, remember these take home lessons: