Once upon a time there was this flick knife. It’s master needed a knife so he made one himself. Heating and hammering the knife in the furnace and an anvil till it gained it’s shape. It’s master then ground it and sanded it till it was sharp and deadly. The knife’s transformation from a lump of metal to a knife has been very painful, being hammered, melted down in strong heat and being ground isn’t really the most pleasant thing to do. Furing this time, the knife screamed in pain and cried out aloud. The pain was so unbearable that the knife wished it never existed. All the other tools and instruments in the workshop pitied the little knife and comforted it telling it that when the master has finished his work, the knife will come out more useful and beautiful. The master seeing that his work waas complete, made a beautiful handle for the kinfe and all the other instruments envied the knife.
The knife was to be placed in the workshop and be used for carving things into whatever shape the knife wanted. When it was in the workshop, the knife became buddies with a wooden picture frame on the wall. They were friends until the picture frame decided to show the knife a crack on the back of the frame. The knife was shocked for it was indeed a horrible, ugly crack. It had been hidden from view from the master or else the picture frame would have been made into scrap wood. We do not know what instigated the knife but it went to tell the other instruments about the crack and they all decided to gang up against the picture frame and make it show the crack to the master.
So everyday, the instruments and the knife went to cut, poke, drill the picture in the picture frame. The picture frame teared, not only in pain but also in the hurt of betrayal. Why did it’s good friend betray it? There seems to be no apparent reason. One day, the master came back to the workshop and was shocked to see the picture in the picture frame full of holes and cuts. He took down the picture frame and turned it around to take the picture out. He saw the crack, the big ugly crack.
"There is no hope for this old piece of wood" The master took the photo out and left the picure frame on the workbench to be used as scrap wood later. And so the picture frame was drilled into, cut, broken, sanded until the master decided to throw it away. The picture frame comforted itself
"Looks like I had to go anyway." It held no grudges to the tools in the workshop and more importantly the knife. The picture frame was thrown into the bin and awaited it’s doom at the incinerator. The knife however, did not feel it did something wrong.
"It was old and ugly, we all forgot to see the crack at the back."
The knife had forgotten, it was the old, ugly picture frame that comforted it during it’s transformation and the knife has sent the picture frame to it’s doom.
What’s the moral of the story?