11/08/2025
โHey, how are you?โ the eraser asked the pencil kindly.
โIโm not your friend,โ the pencil snapped. โI hate you.โ
Surprised and hurt, the eraser asked, โWhy?โ
โBecause you erase everything I write.โ
โI only remove the mistakes,โ the eraser replied gently.
โThat doesnโt make it right,โ said the pencil.
โBut thatโs what Iโm here for. Itโs my purpose.โ
โThen your job is meaningless,โ grumbled the pencil. โWriting is more important than erasing.โ
โTo erase the wrong is just as important as writing the right,โ the eraser said.
The pencil paused, then quietly said, โBut I see you getting smaller each dayโฆโ
โThatโs because I give a little bit of myself every time I help correct a mistake.โ
โI feel smaller too,โ the pencil admitted.
โWe canโt do good for others unless weโre willing to sacrifice something,โ the eraser smiled.
Then she looked at him and softly asked, โDo you still hate me?โ
The pencil smiled back:
โHow could I hate someone who gives so much of themselves?โ
Each day we wake up with one day less.
If you canโt be the pencil that creates joy for others, be the eraser that wipes away their pain, planting hope and reminding them:
The future can still be better than the past.
Be grateful. Always.
