සමහර මිනිස්සු අදටත් ජීවත් වෙලා ඉන්නෙ මැරෙ_න්න තියෙන බය නිසා මිසක් ජීවත් වෙන්න තියෙන ආසවට නෙමෙයි 🥺

"Hey, how are you?" the eraser asked the pencil kindly. "I'm not your friend," the pencil said. "I hate you." "Why?" the eraser asked, surprised and hurt. "Because you erase everything I write." "I just erase mistakes," the eraser replied gently. "That's not right," the pencil said. "But that's what I'm here for. That's my purpose." "Then your work is pointless," the pencil grumbled. "Writing is more important than erasing." "Erasing mistakes is just as important as writing the right ones," the eraser said. The pencil paused and said quietly, "But I see you getting smaller every day..." "That's because every time I help correct a mistake, I give a little of myself." "I feel small too," the pencil admitted. "We can't do good to others unless we are willing to give something," the eraser smiled. Then she looked at him and asked softly, "Do you still hate me?" The pencil smiled back: "How can I hate someone who gives so much of themselves?" If you can't be a pencil that brings joy to others, be an eraser that erases their pain, plants hope, and reminds them. The future can be better than the past. Always be grateful. Copied