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@ ODILI ONUOHA
2025-06-17 07:25:00In a quiet town tucked between snowy mountains, lived an old clockmaker named Mark. His shop was filled with hundreds of ticking clocks, some tiny as teacups, others grand as towers. Yet Mark had no family, no visitors, only time.
He kept to himself, fixing clocks and watching minutes pass like wind through trees.
Until one day, a boy named James burst through the door, holding a broken wooden watch.
“My father’s watch,” he said breathlessly. “It stopped working the day he left for the war. I want it to tick again. Please.”
Mark examined the piece. It was chipped, rusty, worthless to anyone else.
But he saw the longing in the boy’s eyes of hope.
So he nodded. “It will take time.”
Days turned into weeks. Each day, James returned not just to check the watch, but to ask questions. About gears. About patience. About why some clocks chime and others stay silent.
Mark found himself laughing for the first time in years. Sharing stories. Teaching.
The boy’s laughter filled the room like bells.
Finally, Mark handed the fixed watch to James. “It ticks again,” he said softly.
James’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you.”
Then he added, “Can I come tomorrow, even if nothing’s broken?”
Mark smiled.
“I’d like that.”
From then on, the shop didn’t just keep time, it gave it.
Moral: The moments you give to others may seem small but they’re the ones that make life truly count.