A story of gain, loss, and what was left… gone
“It’s fine, it’s just a small thing.”
That’s the excuse that comes first. A boy skips his chores and hides behind those words. Nobody says anything, so he learns that wrong can be covered if you say the right line.
That same excuse follows him to school. During tests, he leans over to copy answers. It feels clever, almost harmless, and soon it becomes routine. Passing without effort feels better than failing with honesty.
As he grows older, the pattern deepens. At the store, he pockets the extra coins a cashier mistakenly gives. He calls it luck, treats himself to a snack, and laughs with friends about his “free win.” By then, small wins already felt normal.
College only makes the habit stronger. He takes credit for group projects, and when teachers praise him, he learns that charm and words can get him further than hard work. Truth becomes optional—applause feels better.
When he gets his first job, it doesn’t feel much different from school. He hides errors, takes credit he hasn’t earned, and signs off papers without caring what they mean. By being polite and pleasing, he fools his boss into thinking he’s efficient, but to him it’s just the same easy trick he has always used—do less, look good, and get away with it.
With the same tricks, he climbs higher. He starts a business, bends rules, charges more than he should, and calls it strategy. Money flows, his house grows larger, the cars get shinier, and people admire his success. They call him smart, even blessed.
But when the noise fades and the doors close, a quiet question follows him: what good is all this gain if, somewhere along the way, he has traded the one thing he could never afford to lose—
gone.
ᴛʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᴏᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʙˡᵘᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵉᵐ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ᵇˡᵒᵍ
