let me tell you a story.

[Deleted]

many years ago, in a quiet corner of a local park, a new statue was built.

it was a work of modern art… or so said the craftsman. in reality he had put in a poor effort, knowing that he would be paid anyway. the statue was full of imperfections but it was deemed good enough. so the craftsman went on his merry way with a pocketful of crisp green bills.

unbeknownst to the people visiting the park, a spirit had come to call the statue its home! this spirit looked at the sloppy construction, the badly painted designs… and it acknowledged these things as flaws, but paid little mind. everything would surely work out if given enough time.

as the seasons trudged on, however, the spirit became less and less pleased with the appearance of its home. the paint was chipping and the whole thing creaked whenever there was a strong breeze. this statue was never built to last. and the park's visitors seemed to agree - it had been a nice change to see the statue at first, but now it was hardly more than a blemish in the scenery. the people made an effort to avert their eyes whenever they walked through that area of the park.

the spirit grew sad. originally it had been fun to live here, but that was not the case anymore. years slowly passed like this. though the spirit still hoped that things would get better someday, it wondered whether moving out and searching for a new home would be the best option.

one day a violent storm rolled in. the spirit watched, frightened, as the wind destroyed flowers and tore up bushes. then there was a sudden crack, and a huge branch fell from one of the trees! it crushed the statue, knocking it off its pedestal and snapping off several of the parts. as much as the spirit shrieked and wailed, there was nobody around to hear it.

the storm ceased after some time. people came to clean up the park and repair the damages. they planted new flowers, fixed up the bushes, and took chainsaws to the fallen branch. after removing all the debris, they looked upon the remains of the statue and shook their heads.

what a shame, they said.
it's broken now, they sighed.

when the statue was sent to a scrapyard, the spirit came along. its home was shattered but somehow it still clung to a faint hope. the spirit believed that somebody might come to the scrapyard, eventually, and decide that they wanted the statue in spite of how broken it was. perhaps the spirit was foolish in this decision but it was also stubborn.

as more time passed, however, this determination waned. the spirit decided that it might be best to find a new home after all. but as it cast its gaze around the scrapyard, it realized that nothing here was suitable. if it no longer wished to life in the broken statue then it would have nowhere else to go.

the spirit agonized over this choice. it was unhappy here, but it did not want to leave either. the days seemed to slow to a crawl as the spirit argued with itself over its current two options. to stay inside the statue, or to drift away? both were equally unappealing.

but then! an aspiring young artist came to the scrapyard one morning. she looked around and she saw potential in everything. the spirit was surprised when this artist walked right up to the broken statue and gave a delighted smile.

it's perfect, she said.
i'll take it, she exclaimed.

the statue, with its imperfections and its faded paint and its shattered parts, was given a place of pride in the artist's yard. nobody had ever cared this much about the statue before. yet she fixed it up as best she could and painted intricate designs, further astonishing the spirit which still lurked within.

by the time the artist had finished her work, the statue looked better than it ever had before. the spirit could do nothing but silently weep with joy. never had it thought that somebody would truly care about its broken, flawed home.

but here it was. the spirit could hardly believe how lucky it was to have such a wonderful person looking after it. didn't she deserve something better than a tired old statue? this was probably true, but the spirit knew that it would be forever grateful to the artist anyway.

it was glad that it had stayed.