There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His father gave
him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he
must hammer a nail into the back of the fence.
The
first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few
weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered
daily gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his
temper than to drive those nails into the fence.
Finally
the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. He told his
father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one
nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper. The days passed
and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the
nails were gone.
The father took his son by the hand
and led him to the fence. He said, "You have done well, my son, but
look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When
you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one. You can
put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won't matter how many times
you say I'm sorry, the wound is still there."
The
little boy then understood how powerful his words were. He looked up at
his father and said "I hope you can forgive me father for the holes I
put in you."
"Of course I can," said the father.
~~ My husband was the first person who told me about this story and I totally agreed with the meaning behind this. I have always disliked confrontations. I have always believed that in the fit of anger, despite whatever words that you actually do not mean it, those words said could have done so much harm and caused so many scars.
What does one do, when the place you once thought was really great to stay put upon has changed and now you are left with nothingness?
Uncertainty is the only constant...I guess I should have known better...
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