When I was a 13 year old boy, my friends from school took me to a fertile orchard on the edge of town.

They assured me that it was one of their parents land so I naively believed their story.
   
I climbed to the top of a pear tree and threw down three ripe pears and headed for the last one to eat.

While I was thusly occupied, an old lady came out of the only house  in the orchard and started yelling at me to come down.
I came down and started asking what the problem was.
She responded with a blow with one of her crutches to my right leg.
Still holding the pear I kept explaining that I didn't know it was her land, when she finally heard me she believed me and apologized. I offered to give back the pear but she let me keep it saying I was a good boy.

That pear was the best tasting pear I have ever eaten and all because I was honest. Not all stories end this way.

Once I was cussed out for being beaten up but that's another story.