Quoted By:
Once upon a time, in a quiet little pencil case, there lived an eraser named Emery. Emery had always felt… different. They weren’t as sleek as the mechanical pencils, as colorful as the gel pens, or as sturdy as the rulers. Instead, they were soft, smudged from use, and constantly shrinking bit by bit.
But what Emery wanted more than anything was to be a mechanical pencil.
Mechanical pencils were strong. They were sharp. They made perfect lines, while Emery only cleaned up mistakes. To Emery, that seemed far more important. Who would want to erase when they could create?
One day, a mechanical pencil named Orion noticed Emery’s quiet sighs. “What’s wrong?” Orion asked, clicking their lead out just a little.
“I wish I were like you,” Emery admitted. “You get to draw, write, and make things. All I do is clean up messes.”
Orion tilted their head. “You think that’s not important?”
Emery hesitated. “It’s just… I feel like I’d matter more if I could make something instead of just fixing things.”
Orion chuckled. “Emery, do you know how many times I mess up? Without you, my lines would be full of mistakes. Artists, writers, students—they all need erasers to help them grow. Creation isn’t just about getting it right the first time. It’s about trying, making mistakes, and trying again.”
For the first time, Emery thought about all the times they had helped. The math problems corrected. The sketches adjusted. The rough drafts refined. Maybe erasing wasn’t about undoing—it was about making space for something better.
As time passed, Emery stopped wishing to be a mechanical pencil. Instead, they focused on what they did best—helping others, giving them second chances, and being a quiet but essential part of the creative process. And with that, Emery realized they were happy just the way they were.
Because sometimes, the most important role isn’t the one that stands out—it’s the one that helps others shine.
