A sponge baseball bat, a Children’s Day present for my nephew a few years ago, has fulfilled its duty and responsibility, and we replaced it with a new aluminum bat. It’s just a few bucks, but the boy was excited. Before going to bed, he put it next to his pillow and lay down. And then he sat up and touched the bat saying, “Is my precious aluminum baseball bat doing alright?”
My phone I put near my pillow is worth more than 25 times as much as the bat, yet my joyous feeling toward it is less than 0.25% of his.
I used to have those precious things next to my pillow (I can’t really remember what they were though). I would set them down, lay down, and then look at them again and touch them.
During the upcoming spring-cleaning day, I might need to look for “the ability to put some precious things next to my pillow and feel joyous multiple times” in my dusty piles of junk in my closet.
I don’t remember throwing it away, so it must be in there somewhere.