The Little Wooden Knife

The Little Wooden Knife

©Ana Sastrias 2013

It was in 1992, possibly in the Spring or Summer time in Tokyo, when I discovered you and you captivated me with your simple and elegant design, your soft and slick texture and your efficiency in cutting.

In those months, discovering the Japanese culture, getting to know also people from Asia and the Middle East, Africa, India, Pakistan and Sri Lanka for the first time, adding up to the Japanese experience; I kept you all that time wrapped up until I came back to Mexico.

Coming back to Mexico, after five months of keeping you in your wrapping, I decided to keep you to myself and use you. Since that same time, there has not been one day I have not used you.

You have been so efficient in greasing the bread with dips, butter, Brie and Camembert cheeses, even with Blue cheese.

You have made a delicious time in our reunions, as in Mexico as well as in Australia. With your friend, “the little stirring spoon”, also a Japanese one, both have been a great inseparable couple in our daily meal and nibbles preparations.

It is amazing, how fast the time passes and all this time that you have endured, despite so much use and so many washes. Even last year, when I needed to accept some help, the helpers thought of you as a stick for the rubbish bin not as a useful knife. So, as a good owner of yours, I always rescued you from the bin and washed you carefully to continue using you. This happened on three occasions. Your two friends, “the little stirring spoons”, could not survive the washing. One day, one of the helpers just reported to me, ‘oopps!, the stirring spoon has been found broken in the sink …’, and so, since that event there is only one surviving little spade. And now, that there is no need for helpers, then, you two can enjoy being safe with me as long as you live and I live.

I never thought that the first time I put you in the dishwasher, I would have lost you forever. Poor little wooden knife, since that day, you lost your slick texture and colour. Since that unfortunate time, I learnt that you are an object of the old fashioned washing by hand method.

You have witnessed so many things, nice moments and very difficult ones in our lives. You have witnessed each step of my husband’s disease, and as a very good companion that you are, you gave him the best you could do for him: giving him a very good cracker or bread with a very good dip; giving him semi-toasted bread with butter. You prepared an exquisite sandwich with ham, cheese and mayonnaise, mustard and avocado with lettuce. Who would have thought of you to be as an everlasting object, even the Titanic so great and strong would have not resisted as you have.

You, as a little, insignificant and common object, original though; have been part of our every day lives, refusing to ever break.

You have resisted yourself to oblivion, rescuing you from the bad hands.

You, who have had to overcome so many diseases and even one or two deaths.

You, who seem to be a little thing, almost useless, becoming slimmer all the time by each washing; it would seem that your original task is becoming harder for you to perform. Nevertheless, there is something that reminds me that you still want to be useful.

At each meal I invite You to please me, now with Hommus, then with Dip, another time with Butter and then another time with Jam and then, with a very good cheese and so on.

I know that there will be a day when I will not longer be able to enjoy your services, but as you always refuse to die or disappear, then there will be a time for us too.

What a brave little wooden knife, you are nothing but to admire.

Ana Elena Sastrías (original in Spanish)

5 – 04 – 2013

8:08 pm

Penrith

Sydney, Australia