Write about a time when you didn’t take action but wish you had. What would you do differently?
Returning home from college in New York to Florida, I found myself without a car. My parents had recently purchased a sleek new sports car, making it clear I was not to drive it-ever. However, when they couldn’t pick up my younger sister from school due to work commitments, they surprised me: “Take the new car; the keys are on the hook by the laundry door.”

I seized the opportunity, feeling exhilarated as I slid into the driver’s seat, the new car smell enveloping me, Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing” blaring through the speakers. I felt like a rockstar, navigating the roads with newfound confidence.
As I approached the intersection near my sister’s school, a sudden crash jolted me from my reverie. To my left, a red Acura had been T-boned, metal crumpling like tin foil, the windshield shattering, airbags deploying. Time seemed to slow as I locked eyes with the driver, his fear mirroring my own.
Instinct urged me to help, to rush to his aid. My hand reached for the door handle, but my parents’ strict instructions echoed in my mind: no detours, no stops. Paralyzed by indecision, I remained in the car as others rushed to assist. The light turned green, and I drove on, tears streaming down my face, whispering, “Thank you, God,” that others had acted.
The guilt lingered. I grappled with the realization that I had prioritized obedience over compassion. Reflecting on that moment, I recognized the importance of listening to my moral compass, even when it conflicts with authority. Since then, I’ve vowed to act when others are in need, a promise I’ve kept.
This experience taught me the profound impact of inaction. While I adhered to my parents’ rules, I neglected a deeper responsibility to assist someone in distress. I’ve learned that true integrity involves making difficult choices, sometimes challenging authority to do what’s right. Moving forward, I strive to align my actions with my values, ensuring I won’t let fear or obedience prevent me from helping others.