Pencil: I’m sorry cos you get hurt bcos 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

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

MORAL;
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

This is for all parents out there…..

is the modest 5-letter, dual syllabic one: SORRY.