When I saw my broken toy car lying on the floor, unwanted, wrecked and left in broken pieces, a surge of anger rose within. How could my little sister do this to my toy car? Out of brotherly love, I gave her my most beloved toy car to play with, and this is what it amounts to it. So this is how my little sister treats my gift for her? I will complain to Daddy.

I stormed into His room, frowning, and He naturally arose from His seat, followed me out of the room and looked at where my finger pointed. He smiled, eyes sparkling as usual.

It is okay son, you dont have to stop loving your sister just because of one broken toy.
But Daddy...
He smiled in silence.
I still refuse to disarm my anger. Daddy has no idea how precious that toy is to me.
Son, which is more important? That you always love your sister, or your toy?

Right there, on the floor was no longer a broken toy car, just pieces of plastic.