The
Wise Little Dwarf in My Fingernail
One evening, as a young lady trimmed her nails, one clipping suddenly sprang
to life, bouncing off the table and transforming into a tiny dwarf!
Stunned, she nearly dropped her nail clippers.
The dwarf chuckled, dusting himself off. "Relax, my dear!
I’m no ghost—just here for a chat."
Still wide-eyed, she hesitated. "What… could we possibly
talk about?"
"Anything!" said
the dwarf, crossing his legs mid-air. "Ask me anything at
all."
Curiosity overtook her fear. "When I cut you off my
fingers… does it hurt you?"
The dwarf grinned. "Pain is a matter of perspective. A
gentle trim? I’ll fade away peacefully. But hack at me recklessly?" He
shuddered. "Let’s just say neither of us enjoys that."
"Good point," she
admitted.
Leaning in, she asked, "Is there a lesson in all
this?"
"Ah!" His eyes
twinkled. "Nails are tiny philosophers. Grow them too long, and
they’ll snag, scratch, or even draw blood—like unchecked anger, greed, or toxic
people in your life." He wagged a finger. "Some
things—and some folks—need trimming before they cause harm. Even
what’s part of you can become a burden if neglected."
"And yet," he added, "a
nail has purpose. It peels fruit, scratches itches, and even signals health.
Much like life’s troubles, if you handle them wisely, they shape you."
The young lady laughed. "You nailed that
advice!"
With a wink, the dwarf curled back into a clipping and landed on a sheet
of paper. She tossed it away and whispered, "Time to trim my
temper… set boundaries with Mr. X… and finally tell Ms. Y no."
M.L.Narendra Kumar
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