He was trying to make a chess piece.

It was his way of challenging himself

Of fitting in with the others busy making things

 

But his knife wouldn’t cut.

It wouldn’t cut into the wood

to shave a sliver.

 

He did not want to force it

That would be dangerous.

So he sought some help.

 

The scoutmaster looked it over

and exclaimed that it had a good edge.

So what was the problem?

 

It had an edge, but would not cut.

How could that be?

 

An edge it had, by his own hand,

though it was not a finished edge

to finish the edge must be his task.

 

With permission, he borrowed the scoutmaster’s strop

He must be patient. The finish would take time.

He settled in and began

 

Going in reverse, pulling the blade

First one side, then the other.

Keeping the balance a good edge needs

 

After 15 minutes of slow and careful strokes

The edge was shiny and polished

Like never before

 

Carefully he placed the strop on the bench

Taking up the gloves and the carving

Setting the knife in position

 

A gentle push and the shaving peeled away

He looked up, smiling wide, eyes laughing

Another gentle push, another shaving

 

His smile grew, eyes bright

Almost hopping about.

Sometimes patience is a good thing

 

The light shown in his face and his words.

“Now I get it!”

The edge must be finished in order to carve.

 

For him it was a realization

He could carve, something rare

If only he took the time to finish the tools

 

Perhaps the light will stay on

showing that many things in life

require patience to “finish the edge”