The Serpent and the File

In a bustling village known for its skilled craftsmen, there lived a master blacksmith named Vulcan who was famous throughout the region for creating the finest tools and weapons. His workshop was filled with hammers, anvils, tongs, and an impressive collection of files that he used to shape and sharpen metal with precision.

Among his most prized possessions was an exceptionally well-made file, forged from the hardest steel and tempered to perfection. This file had served the blacksmith faithfully for many years, helping him create countless tools and weapons with smooth, perfectly finished surfaces.

One particularly hot summer evening, after Vulcan had finished his work for the day and locked up his workshop, a large serpent slithered into the building through a small gap in the wooden wall. The snake was hungry and had been searching for food throughout the village, following the scent of various materials that might lead to prey.

The serpent, whose name was Naga, was known in the area for his aggressive nature and powerful bite. He was accustomed to being able to overcome any obstacle through persistence and force, and he had never encountered anything that could withstand his determination for long.

As Naga explored the dark workshop, slithering between the various tools and equipment, he accidentally bumped into the blacksmith’s prized file, which had been left on the workbench. The hard steel surface scraped against his scales, creating an uncomfortable sensation that immediately irritated the serpent.

“What is this rough, unpleasant object?” Naga hissed to himself, coiling around to examine the file more closely. “How dare it scrape against my beautiful scales! I’ll show it who’s master here!”

The serpent’s pride was wounded by the file’s rough treatment, and he decided that this offensive object needed to be taught a lesson. Without taking time to consider the nature of what he was dealing with, Naga opened his mouth wide and bit down hard on the steel file.

Immediately, a sharp pain shot through the serpent’s mouth as his teeth struck the incredibly hard surface of the file. The steel was much harder than anything Naga had ever encountered before, and instead of biting through it as he expected, his teeth simply scraped against the unyielding surface.

“Impossible!” Naga exclaimed, recoiling from the unexpected resistance. “Nothing has ever been able to withstand my bite before! I must not have tried hard enough!”

Rather than recognizing that he was attempting something futile, the serpent became even more determined to overcome this challenge. His pride would not allow him to admit that there might be something he couldn’t bite through with sufficient effort.

Naga positioned himself for another attack, opening his jaws even wider and striking the file with greater force than before. Once again, his teeth scraped uselessly against the hard steel surface, and once again he felt the sharp pain of trying to bite something much harder than his own teeth.

“This is intolerable!” the serpent hissed angrily. “I am one of the most powerful creatures in this region! I have bitten through thick branches, tough leather, and even stone! I will not be defeated by this… whatever this thing is!”

Each failed attempt only made Naga more frustrated and determined. He convinced himself that the solution was simply to try harder, to bite with more force, to persist until he achieved victory through sheer willpower and effort.

Attack after attack, the serpent struck at the file with increasing desperation. Each bite resulted in the same outcome: his teeth would scrape harmlessly against the steel surface while causing increasing damage to his own mouth. Small chips began to appear on his teeth, and his gums started to bleed from the repeated impacts.

“I just need to find the right angle,” Naga told himself as he prepared for yet another assault. “Or perhaps I need to bite faster, or with more precision. There must be a way to overcome this obstacle!”

The serpent spent hours in this futile endeavor, repeatedly biting the file with varying techniques and approaches. He tried biting from different angles, with different amounts of force, and even attempted to wrap around the file and squeeze it while biting. Nothing worked.

As the night wore on, Naga’s condition continued to deteriorate. His teeth became increasingly damaged from the repeated impacts against the hard steel. His mouth was bloody and swollen from the constant trauma he was inflicting upon himself. Yet still he refused to give up.

“I have invested too much effort in this battle to quit now,” the serpent reasoned desperately. “If I stop now, all my work will have been for nothing. I must continue until I achieve victory!”

But the file remained completely unchanged by all of Naga’s efforts. The steel surface showed no scratches, no dents, no signs of wear whatsoever. It was exactly as hard and unyielding as it had been when the serpent first encountered it.

Meanwhile, Naga had severely damaged himself in his futile pursuit of an impossible goal. His teeth were chipped and broken, his mouth was swollen and bleeding, and he had exhausted himself through hours of pointless effort.

As dawn approached and the first light began to filter through the workshop windows, the serpent finally collapsed from exhaustion beside the file that had defeated him. He was in terrible pain, his mouth was severely damaged, and he was no closer to his goal than when he had started.

It was at this moment of complete defeat that a wise old mouse, who lived in the walls of the workshop and had observed the entire night’s events, decided to speak up.

“My friend,” said the mouse gently, “I watched you struggle all night long, and I must tell you something important: that object you’ve been trying to bite is a file, made from the hardest steel the blacksmith could create. It’s designed to be harder than almost anything it might encounter.”

Naga looked up weakly at the mouse, his mouth too damaged to speak clearly.

The mouse continued with compassion, “You’ve been trying to bite through something that was specifically made to be unbitable. It’s not a matter of effort or persistence—it’s simply the wrong approach to an impossible task.”

“But… but I’ve never failed before,” Naga managed to whisper through his injured mouth. “I thought if I just tried hard enough…”

“Sometimes,” the mouse explained wisely, “the strength to continue is less valuable than the wisdom to stop. There’s no shame in recognizing when a task is impossible and choosing to direct your energy toward something achievable instead.”

As Naga slowly slithered away from the workshop to tend to his wounds, he finally understood the lesson he had learned through such painful experience. Not every obstacle could be overcome through persistence and force. Sometimes the wisest course of action was to recognize futility and redirect one’s efforts toward more productive pursuits.

The file remained on the workbench, completely unchanged by the serpent’s night-long assault, ready to serve the blacksmith for many more years of useful work.

Moral: Some battles cannot be won through persistence alone. Wisdom lies in recognizing when continued effort is futile and choosing to redirect your energy toward achievable goals. Stubborn persistence in the face of impossible odds often causes more harm than good.