a boy's first knife
When I was 6, my father gave me a red Lone Ranger pocket knife. I was thrilled beyond belief. Within a few days, I lost it and despaired. I told my father, expecting some kind of horrible punishment. Instead he bought me another pocket knife. I have carried a knife ever since age 6, except now when I'm on a plane. I've had many knives but will never forget that red Lone Ranger pocket knife.
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