There used to be a young man who had a terrible attitude. His dad provided him with a sack of nails and let him know that each time he blew his top, he should pound a nail into the rear of the fence.
On a primary day, the kid had driven 37 nails into the fence. Throughout the following few weeks, as he figured out how to control his annoyance, the number of pins pounded every day progressively dwindled. He found it was more straightforward to hold his attitude than to drive those nails into the fence.
At last, the day came when the kid didn't blow his top by any stretch of the imagination. He informed his dad, and the dad recommended that the kid presently take out one nail for every day that he had the option to hold his attitude. The days passed, and the kid was at last ready to let his dad know that every one of the nails was no more.
The dad took his child by the hand and drove him to the fence. He said, "You have gotten along nicely, my child, yet check out the openings in the fence. The fence won't ever go back. Whenever you make statements out of frustration, they leave a scar like this one. You can place a blade in a man and draw it out. It won't make any difference how often you say I'm grieved. The injury is still there."
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