This is a story carried by the Wind, from a land seasons away from us. Here, the leaves are changing their colors into natural collages filled with yellow, red, brown and orange shades. The Wind, as faithful as ever, told me a moving story to compliment the picturesque evening. As beautiful as it may appears, the fact remains that the trees will be left with nothing except for their barren branches and their faithful trunks to face the cold and unforgiving winter.
An old woman sat with his grandson underneath the shade of a patio, in the middle of a garden filled with flowers. The Sun bathe the Earth with a graceful amount of heat, and gave life to seedlings. The smell of spring filled the air as dandelions merrily let go off their seedlings to travel the world, while tulips shared their light flowery scent, that wafted in the warm and calm afternoon.
The Wind, swirled and drifted in the comfort of Spring: when suddenly it caught sight of the woman and her grandson. Out of its insatiable curiosity, the Wind gently glides and swirled near both of them. The woman was deep in thought, as she watched over her grandson. The boy was busy scribbling on papers, using crayons, pencils and coal sticks, and drew beautiful images of the Spring.
The woman suddenly stood up and picked up a pencil from the scattered stationeries, strewn across the table. She said,
"My dear, learn and be just like this pencil..."
The boy, clueless, and obviously unaware of any significance in the pencil held by his grandmother, asked with a genuine sense of curiosity...The kind of curiosity that reflected innocence rather than insipidity... She ran her fingers through the boy's silky hair, and said,
" My child, the pencil writes whatever the writer desires. Never will it go against the writer's will. This does not mean that it has no will of its own, but when it is needed to perfect a wishful thought, it'll be there, just like a guardian angel...
"The pencil never complains of long hours that it took each time the writer used him to write. It will endure the pain of being grinded against the surface of the paper. The tip of the pencil snapped, and at times, became blunt because of the amount of labor that he took. The toil and hardships represent his purpose in life.
" Then came the sharpening process. The gruesome sharpening, though painful, will eventually make him sharp again. It's better to be useful and die in the end, rather than living without serving a purpose. Remember my child, success can only be achieved with undying perseverance and hard work. Hard work requires sacrifices,then only you can truly savor the sweetness of success. If you are advantaged by means of cutting corners and the presence of sheer luck, all will be lost because what you have in your hands will be void of any soul. They will cease to be called success, rather they should be called "loots".
"A pencil is never afraid to admit its mistake. It even allows the mistake to be erased from the surface of the paper,even if the error was solely caused by the blatant ignorance of the writer, a pencil never protest should any correction needs to be done. Be as forgiving as a pencil, my child. Life is too short to harbor hatred and spite... They will slowly kill you from within. To err is human, but to forgive is divine..."
The old woman then placed the pencil, and placed in on the palm of the little child, as she folded his chubby fingers, so as to wrap the pencil in his tiny little hands.
"...write all you want child. Never be afraid of what the world might think of you because what you believe is what you are within. If you are to make a mistake or you made an error in judgment, just bear in mind that ALLAH is all forgiving and all benevolent. There's always space for us to better our status as HIS servant.
Time will teach you a lot of things, but time, must be seized when it comes. Do not force the time on you, cause you might loose your youth in pursuit of something that you should not waste your effort on. Life will put every rightful things in their own rightful places.
With little things that we have, we can change the world. What you write, might move mountains, free slaves, and even change the world. But remember, have faith and do everything in the name of ALLAH. Learn from the pencil, as it is the smallest thing that can make you believe..."
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