My most precious childhood possession

My most precious childhood possession was my first pocket knife. I had asked my parents for years for one, but they said I might cut myself. Eventually they got me one when I joined the boy scouts in first grade. It was a tiny blue knife. It seemed like it was never sharpened, but it didn't stop me from whittling with it. I spent about three hours making a spear with it and then threw the spear at a tree.

This item was important to me because of the amount of time I had tried to obtain it. My parents were right about it being too dangerous for a kid my age, though. I was whittling a stick, and accidentally cut a gash out of my wrist. I had not been paying attention and dropped the stick before moving the knife. I hid the scar from my dad so he did not take the knife away from me because I was being careless. I learned that my parents were right about things having to do with safety most of the time by doing this to myself.