Pencil: I’m sorryEraser: For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.

Pencil: I’m sorry because you get hurt because of me. Whenever I made a mistake, you’re always there to erase it.

But as you make my mistakes vanish, you lose a part of yourself. You get smaller and smaller each time.


Eraser: That’s true. But I don’t really mind.  You see, I was made to do this.   I was made to help you whenever you do something wrong. Even though one day, I know I’ll be gone and you’ll replace me with a new one, I’m actually happy with my job.   So, please, stop worrying.  I hate seeing you sad.

I found this conversation between the pencil and the eraser very inspirational.

Parents are like the eraser whereas their children are the pencil. They’re always there for their children, cleaning up their mistakes.

Sometimes along the way, they get hurt, and become smaller/ older, and eventually pass on.

Though their children will eventually find someone new (spouse), but parents are still happy with what  they do for their children, and will always hate seeing their precious ones worrying, or sad.

For some time, I was the pencil, and now I’m an eraser.  The relevance of this story is now absolute, both considering my parents, and my children.

For I know that one day, all that I will be is shavings and memories of a story that was once written.

What story are you writing today?

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