I was walking down an icy hill one winter night with a glass iced tea bottle in my hand. I slipped, reacted by trying to brace myself with the bottle-holding hand, and ended up with a shard of glass being driven into my palm. The resulting scar is relatively small, but it's my Jesus scar, so it's sweet.

I also got hit in the face with a toy truck when I was 3. Split my lip open. Not overly noticable 25 years later, but you can still see the scar if you're looking for it.