The Right Cut

In the quiet town of Sioux City, Iowa, Lexman, a skilled craftsman ran a modest woodworking shop. Though far from his homeland, he carried with him the values of discipline and dedication. “Do your best,” he often reminded himself—words his father had once spoken. Lexman was proud of his masterpieces always.

One afternoon, an elderly man named Mr. Callahan stepped into the shop, carrying a worn-out rocking chair. “This belonged to my grandmother,” he said softly. “Can you restore it?”

Lexman nodded. “Absolutely. I’ll give it my best.”

Over the next few days, Lexman poured his heart into the chair. He cleaned, polished, reshaped parts, and added intricate carvings to enhance its beauty. He believed he had not just repaired it, but elevated it.

When Mr. Callahan returned and saw the chair, he paused. “It’s beautiful,” he said. “But… it’s not her chair anymore.”

Lexman was puzzled. “But I did everything I could. I did my best.”

The old man smiled gently. “Yes… but sometimes, it’s not enough to do your best. You must first know what needs to be done. Then do your best.”

That day, Lexman understood that true craftsmanship was not just about skill—but about wisdom, empathy, and listening before acting.