One day as my Master was walking through town, he saw a crowd building up around the town centre. One of the villagers saw him and quickly ran towards my Master, haste in his voice.
“Master! Master! Come quick! That fool of a carpenter has decided to end his own life! He’s threatening to cut his wrist with the very tools he works with. Come quick, Master.”
As so my Master walked over, and the crowd parted aside, letting him through. The carpenter saw my Master approaching, raised his wrist to the knife, and threaten my Master,
“Stay there, Wise One. Do not come near! Take one step closer and I will end my life now, and it will be your fault!”
“My son, calm down. Yes, I will stand here, but only if you tell me why are you thinking of ending your life?”
The carpenter looked straight at my Master, a mixed of emotion in his eyes. His hands shook as he broke down in tears. When he finally caught his breath, he said,
“Master. My life’s work is all gone. For years I have won the award for the best work in the country, the award from the King himself. But this year, I made a mistake. I did my best, but my work was no match for the carpenter from the city. I have lost the award, the recognition, the respect. All the good work I have done, all gone, just like that. I am so humiliated, I have let the village down, I have let my family down. Everyone expected me to win this year, and now, I can’t stand the look of disappointment on their faces. I’ve lost, Master. I can no longer do good work."
My Master listened emphatically, and looked at the carpenter. He gestured to the empty space on the bench next to the carpenter, and asked if he could sit down. The carpenter was reluctant at first, and said, “You can sit, Master, but I am not taking this knife away from me.”
“Thank you, my son, and I can’t make you do what you do not want to do,” he said as he sat down. “But let me tell you of a story I have not told anyone before, one that happened when I was a young student.”
“When I was young, I had always wanted to build a wall to protect the village. But I do not have the gold to buy the bricks, for I was poor. I decided to go house to house, village to village, asking for bricks, so I can build the wall. I counted that I needed a thousand, and that was what I did.”
“Oh, it wasn’t easy, young carpenter, for bricks were hard to come by. But the villagers were supportive. When they couldn’t give me bricks, they give me gold instead, so I can buy from from the city. I treasured every piece I can get, for it represents the faith that the people have in me, and I do not want to let them down.”
“Months later, I managed to gather all the bricks I needed, and then I realised I do not know how to build a wall. Lucky for me, there was a brick layer in the next village, and he thought me how to stack the bricks, one at a time, applying the cement to hold each of them together. And I was a serious learner, for I did not want to waste a single piece of brick.”
“A few weeks past, as I was very slow in my work, not wanting to make any mistakes. Finally the wall was completed. Tired as I was, I stood proud looking at my work, only to realised I have misplaced two pieces of the bricks, and it was no longer a perfect wall.”
By now, the carpenter have loosen his grip around the knife which was earlier pressed hard against his wrist. The town villagers themselves have all sat down, listening to my Master’s tale. And yet, my Master continued his story, ignoring the rest of the villagers, and only looking straight into the carpenter’s eyes - the only person that mattered at that time.
“Oh, how furious I was at myself. I would look at those two bricks every time I walked by, gritting my teeth, cursing myself for being so careless, so wasteful. The villagers praised my work, commenting that the wall was well built, and thank me for it. I ignored their words, because deep down, I felt it wasn’t true. How can it be, when two pieces of bricks are so misaligned!”
“Every time someone congratulate me, the more furious within I became. I was bitter with myself, and it even robbed me of my sleep at night.”
“Then one day, the brick layer who has taught me the craft months ago, happened to be in town. He saw me looking at the two imperfect bricks on the wall, and patted me on the back, gave me a thumbs up, and even congratulated me. I was so furious that I couldn’t take it anymore, and I asked if he was blind to not see the two imperfect bricks? How can he, as master brick layer, not recognise that I have failed as a student, and I deserve no gesture of gratitude our praises.”
“The brick layer laughed at me, and said I was being foolish. How could I focus on the two imperfect bricks, when the other 998 were stacked perfectly! He said even the most seasoned of brick layers, his teachers before him, have had more imperfect bricks in their walls, and yet, their work stood the test of time. He told me that the important thing was what I set out to do - to build a solid wall - was done well. Perhaps it’s because those two bricks that made the wall as strong as it was, to serve the purpose it was meant.”
“So you see, young carpenter. That day, I realised how narrow minded I had been, and how the frustration has turned me into an ungrateful, bitter person. I focused so hard on the imperfections of the two, misaligned bricks, that I failed to step back and look at the good I have done. I let the bitterness eat me up from inside, just because I was focused on the wrong things.”
“Yes, you have failed to win the award, my son, despite the best of your efforts. But if you just look at the crafts you have done, the furnitures you have build over the years. The coffee table in the King’s favourite garden, the swing that the children play with every evening, the tables we feast and celebrate on.”
My Master then patted on the bench they were both sitting on, “This bench that has served us through the years, as I shared my stories and as you have listened. These are all your good work.”
“Taken a step back, focus on the good work you’ve done, and perhaps, that is what you need to win the award next year.”
The young carpenter looked down, dropped his knife and cried tears of relief. He thanked my Master for his tale, little did he realised my Master was looking at the distance, at the wall he has built so many years ago. And yes, even with the two imperfect bricks, the wall stood the test of time.
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simply great!!!
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Thanks for the support!
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very beautiful and so meaningful story, thanks for sharing with us. And yes, we need more focuse on what we've done👍🏽
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What we focus on will expand, what we set out mind on, we will achieve.
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@originalworks
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The @OriginalWorks bot has determined this post by @maverickfoo to be original material and upvoted(1.5%) it!
To call @OriginalWorks, simply reply to any post with @originalworks or !originalworks in your message!
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Many things around us are imperfect. These imperfections make us human. When i smile i look like a serial killer but that imperfection may find me a beautiful maiden that has fetishes for such smiles.
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Weird example, but whatever works!
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