Ever since it was given to me by my sister as a college graduation congratulation, my Swiss army knife has been my favorite tool. Not too heavy, not too light, it has served me food, repaired a million broken things, screwed and unscrewed screws, untied knots, cut twine, fished out lost items, cleaned my nails, revealed the intricacies of life and nature under its wee magnifying glass and harvested broccoli, kohlrabi, lettuce and more.
It is my constant companion. Together we’ve toured the United States by train, flown and ferried around Scotland, and been to Timbuktu and back. For over a year, my first as a Peace Corps volunteer, it was my only knife. The second year, a blacksmith friend crafted me another blade. It was he whom I trusted to carefully and artfully sharpen both blades on my dear tool.
When I am separated from my knife, I reach for it often. It’s funny to be so attached to a tool, but it’s so ubiquitously useful. I am grateful. Thanks, Sis!