Not long ago I was playing with my 2 year old son. I discovered two important things: First, the little guy has a powerful head-butt. Second, I needed to repair my now broken eyeglass frames.

An eyeglass shop referred me to a local jeweler for the repair. As I entered his store, I noticed a large sign on the wall saying, “Your satisfaction is guaranteed!” Feeling confident that this little inconvenience would soon be resolved, I left my glasses with them and went on my way.

A week later, I returned to pick them up. To my initial delight, they had fixed the broken frame perfectly. However, as I tried them on, I quickly noticed a long, deep scratch across the front of one of the lenses. I pointed this out. The store manager was working in the back. He looked up and said, “It couldn’t have happened here.”

Digging deep into my conflict resolution toolbox, I took a deep breath, tried to stay calm, and began to negotiate for a repair. Long story less painful – this negotiation took several weeks. Beginning with the manager, transitioning to the owner, and then back to the manager. I focused on being polite and reasonable; but firm that the lenses should be fixed.

In the course of these conversations, the manager communicated surprise that the owner spoke to me at all. In his own words, he said he thought the owner was illegitimately born. Over the course of weeks, I was run around, had to make several trips to and from stores, and had to make a dozen calls. Finally, the ‘satisfaction’ that was ‘guaranteed’ was grudgingly delivered.

I learned something important: Here, in this local jewelry repair establishment, they didn’t respect each other. They didn’t respect me. They didn’t have the internal resilience to acknowledge and respond to mistakes.They didn’t see the larger picture that it was costing them more to not resolve this.

Around the same time, I brought a dress shirt to a little shop that does dry cleaning and alterations. I had never used them before but it was close to my office, a convenient location. The shirt had fit too loosely; so, they tailored it for me. I picked it up, brought it home and tried it on. Now it was so tight I could barely button it.

I returned it and, without saying hardly anything at all, the owner immediately apologized. She, without my asking or suggesting, immediately offered to pay for a new shirt and have her tailor take care of it. She never asked what it cost; she just asked me to go and get a new one. I took her up on her offer.

Within minutes of my bringing the new shirt into the store, she wrote out a check. The shirt was tailored by the end of the day. I went in to pick it up and tried it on. It fit perfectly. I thanked her. She fussed over me and told me, “I just feel so relieved that I was able to fix this for you.”

I learned something more: Here, in this local dry cleaning and alterations establishment, they didn’t have a sign promising satisfaction. They just delivered it. Responsibility for mistakes was accepted, without the need to blame. There was a strong motivation to serve, and to make sure things were done consistently well.

Mistakes happen. We all make them. As someone who leans towards perfectionism – I hate making mistakes. However, I’m learning that this attitude is limiting. Even though I prefer to avoid mistakes – they are an opportunity to demonstrate a commitment to service. They demonstrate our character. They are, paradoxically, opportunities to build trust. Our response to our mistakes tells people volumes about what they can expect from us in the future.

What are you telling people through your mistakes?