Master Pfriem

In a bustling town renowned for its skilled craftsmen and artisans, there lived a master craftsman named Pfriem whose reputation for technical excellence was matched only by his reputation for being impossible to please. Master Pfriem was indeed highly skilled in his trade—he could fashion the finest furniture, carve the most intricate details, and solve the most challenging technical problems that other craftsmen brought to him. However, his exceptional abilities had given him an inflated sense of his own importance and an extremely critical attitude toward everyone and everything around him.

Master Pfriem had developed the unfortunate habit of finding fault with absolutely everything he encountered. Nothing was ever good enough for his exacting standards, and he seemed to take perverse pleasure in pointing out the flaws and imperfections in other people’s work, other people’s behavior, and indeed in the very way the world itself was organized.

When he walked through the marketplace, Pfriem would shake his head disapprovingly at the way the vendors arranged their goods. “Look at that foolish merchant,” he would mutter to anyone who would listen. “Can’t he see that he’s displaying his apples all wrong? The large ones should be in front, the medium ones in the middle, and the small ones at the back. And those carrots! They’re not sorted by size at all! How does he expect to attract customers with such a disorganized display?”

When he observed other craftsmen at work, Pfriem was even more critical. “That carpenter is holding his plane incorrectly,” he would announce loudly. “And look at the way that blacksmith is heating his iron—completely wrong technique! If these people would only listen to me, they could learn to do their jobs properly.”

Even when people were simply going about their daily lives, Pfriem found endless opportunities for criticism. “That woman is hanging her laundry all wrong,” he would complain. “The sheets should be hung with the hems aligned, not scattered about haphazardly like that. And that man walking down the street—his gait is completely inefficient! He’s wasting energy with every step.”

Pfriem’s criticism wasn’t limited to human activities. He found fault with the natural world as well. “These trees are growing in completely the wrong pattern,” he would declare while walking through the forest. “They should be arranged in straight rows for maximum efficiency. And why do the birds insist on building their nests in such random locations? If I were in charge of designing the world, I would organize everything much more logically.”

The people of the town had initially tried to be patient with Master Pfriem, recognizing that his technical skills were valuable even if his personality was difficult. However, as the years passed and his critical nature became more and more pronounced, most people began to avoid him whenever possible. Customers still came to him for the most challenging projects because his craftsmanship was truly excellent, but they tried to minimize their interaction with him to avoid being subjected to his constant stream of complaints and corrections.

Master Pfriem seemed oblivious to the fact that his behavior was driving people away. In his mind, he was simply pointing out obvious truths that others were too ignorant or lazy to recognize themselves. He genuinely believed that he was performing a public service by identifying all the ways that the world could be improved, even though no one had asked for his opinions and most people found his commentary exhausting and demoralizing.

As Master Pfriem grew older, his critical nature became even more pronounced. He developed the habit of walking around the town with a small notebook in which he would record all the flaws and imperfections he observed throughout the day. By evening, his notebook would be filled with detailed notes about everything that had displeased him, from crooked fence posts to improperly swept doorsteps to conversations he had overheard in which people used incorrect grammar.

“The world is in a terrible state,” he would complain to his few remaining acquaintances. “Standards have declined everywhere. People have become careless and sloppy in their work and their behavior. If only everyone would pay attention to detail the way I do, society would function much more efficiently.”

When Master Pfriem’s time on earth finally came to an end, he approached death with the same critical attitude he had brought to everything else in his life. As he lay on his deathbed, he continued to find fault with the way his room was arranged, the quality of the care he was receiving, and the manner in which his affairs were being handled.

“That doctor doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Pfriem wheezed to the priest who had come to give him last rites. “And these bedsheets haven’t been tucked in properly at the corners. Even the way you’re holding that prayer book is incorrect—the spine should be facing away from you, not toward you.”

When Master Pfriem finally passed away, his soul began its journey to the afterlife. He had lived a generally moral life, never committing any serious crimes or deliberately harming others, so his soul was bound for heaven rather than for any place of punishment. However, his arrival in the celestial realm would prove to be quite different from what he had expected.

As Pfriem’s soul ascended toward the gates of heaven, he immediately began to notice things that he felt needed correction. “These clouds aren’t arranged very efficiently,” he muttered to himself. “They’re just scattered about randomly instead of being organized in neat, symmetrical patterns. And why are the angels flying in such chaotic formations? If I were in charge of heaven, I would establish clear flight paths and schedules.”

When he reached the gates of heaven, Master Pfriem was greeted by Saint Peter, who welcomed him with kindness and prepared to admit him into the eternal realm of peace and joy. However, before Peter could complete the admission process, Pfriem began pointing out various problems he had already identified with the heavenly arrangements.

“Excuse me, Saint Peter,” Pfriem said in his characteristic tone of authority, “but I couldn’t help noticing that your gate system here is quite inefficient. You have only one entrance, which is bound to create bottlenecks during busy periods. You should really consider opening additional gates to improve the flow of traffic.”

Saint Peter looked at the newcomer with a mixture of amusement and concern. He had welcomed countless souls to heaven over the centuries, but he had rarely encountered one who began offering unsolicited advice before even setting foot inside the gates.

“Thank you for your observation,” Peter replied diplomatically. “However, our current system has worked quite well for many thousands of years. Perhaps you would like to see the rest of heaven before suggesting changes?”

But Master Pfriem was just getting started. As Peter led him through the heavenly realm, pointing out the various wonders and beauties of the eternal kingdom, Pfriem maintained a constant stream of criticism and suggestions for improvement.

“Those harps that the angels are playing are all tuned differently,” he complained. “They should be standardized for better harmony. And look at the way they’re sitting while they play—completely wrong posture! They’ll develop back problems if they continue like that, even in heaven.”

When they passed a group of souls who were engaged in joyful conversation, Pfriem shook his head disapprovingly. “They’re talking much too loudly,” he said. “In a well-organized heaven, there would be designated quiet zones and conversation areas. This random mixing of activities is quite chaotic.”

Even the architecture of heaven failed to meet Pfriem’s exacting standards. “These buildings are constructed in too many different styles,” he observed critically. “There should be a unified architectural plan to create visual coherence. And why are the streets curved instead of straight? Straight streets are much more efficient for transportation.”

Saint Peter began to realize that Master Pfriem’s critical nature had not been left behind with his earthly body, but had followed him into the afterlife. This presented a significant problem, because the whole purpose of heaven was to be a place of perfect peace, joy, and contentment—qualities that were incompatible with constant criticism and fault-finding.

After listening to several hours of Pfriem’s complaints and suggestions, Saint Peter decided that something needed to be done to help the newcomer adjust to his heavenly environment. He led Pfriem to a special chamber where God Himself sometimes appeared to speak with souls who needed particular guidance.

“Master Pfriem,” Saint Peter said gently, “I can see that you have a very keen eye for detail and a strong desire for perfection. However, I think you may be misunderstanding the nature of heaven and your role here.”

Pfriem looked puzzled. “What do you mean?” he asked. “I’m simply pointing out obvious improvements that could be made. Surely even heaven can benefit from constructive criticism and better organization.”

Just then, the chamber filled with a warm, golden light, and the voice of God Himself spoke to Master Pfriem, though the Divine Presence remained invisible.

“My child,” God said in a voice that was both infinitely gentle and infinitely powerful, “I have been watching you since your arrival, and I can see that you are still carrying the burden of judgment that weighed you down during your earthly life.”

Pfriem was momentarily taken aback by being addressed directly by the Creator, but his critical nature quickly reasserted itself. “With all due respect,” he said, “I think there are definitely some organizational issues here that could be addressed. I’ve made a list of suggestions that I’d be happy to share with You.”

There was a moment of profound silence before God responded. “Master Pfriem,” He said, “do you truly believe that you are qualified to improve upon My creation? Do you think that your understanding of perfection is greater than Mine?”

For the first time in his life—or afterlife—Master Pfriem felt a flicker of doubt about his own judgment. “Well,” he said hesitantly, “I’ve always had very high standards, and I’ve developed a good eye for spotting problems that need to be fixed.”

“High standards are indeed valuable,” God replied, “but your standards have been based on your limited human perspective. What appears flawed to you may serve purposes that you cannot perceive. What seems inefficient to your mortal understanding may be perfect in ways that transcend your comprehension.”

God continued, His voice filled with infinite patience and wisdom. “During your earthly life, you spent so much time criticizing and judging others that you forgot to look inward and examine your own flaws. You were so focused on the specks in your neighbors’ eyes that you failed to notice the log in your own eye.”

Master Pfriem felt a growing sense of discomfort as he began to understand what God was telling him. “But surely it’s important to maintain high standards and to point out when things can be improved,” he protested weakly.

“There is a difference,” God explained, “between offering helpful suggestions when they are requested and constantly criticizing everything around you without being asked. There is a difference between striving for excellence in your own work and constantly finding fault with the efforts of others.”

As God spoke, Master Pfriem began to see his past behavior in a new light. He remembered all the times he had criticized other craftsmen whose work, while perhaps not perfect by his standards, had been the best they could manage with their skills and resources. He remembered all the times he had complained about things that were working perfectly well for their intended purposes, even if they didn’t meet his personal preferences.

“During your earthly life,” God continued, “you could have used your exceptional skills and keen eye for detail to help and encourage others. Instead, you used them to tear down and discourage. You could have been a mentor and teacher. Instead, you were a constant source of negativity and criticism.”

Master Pfriem felt a deep sense of shame as he realized the truth of these words. “What can I do now?” he asked humbly. “How can I make amends for my past behavior?”

“First,” God said, “you must learn to see the beauty and perfection that exists in things that are different from your own vision of how they should be. You must learn to appreciate effort and intention, even when the execution is not flawless. You must learn to understand that diversity and variation are often more beautiful than rigid uniformity.”

God then gave Master Pfriem a special task that would help him develop these new perspectives. He was assigned to spend time with souls who had recently arrived in heaven from all walks of life and all levels of skill and education. His job was not to criticize or correct them, but to help them feel welcome and appreciated for who they were and what they had contributed to the world during their earthly lives.

At first, this task was extremely difficult for Master Pfriem. His natural instinct was still to point out flaws and suggest improvements. However, as he forced himself to focus on finding positive things to say about each new arrival, he gradually began to develop a new way of seeing.

He met a farmer whose work had been simple but essential, feeding his community with crops grown through honest labor. He met a mother who had raised her children with love and patience, even though she had never learned to read or write. He met a soldier who had protected his country with courage and dedication, even though his military tactics might not have been textbook perfect.

As Master Pfriem learned to appreciate these souls for their contributions rather than criticizing them for their limitations, he began to understand the wisdom of God’s design for the world. He realized that perfection did not require everyone to meet the same exacting standards that he had applied to his own work. Instead, perfection lay in the beautiful diversity of talents, efforts, and contributions that different people brought to the world.

Gradually, Master Pfriem’s critical nature was transformed into something much more valuable: the ability to see and appreciate the unique gifts that each soul possessed. His keen eye for detail, instead of being used to find faults, was now used to identify and celebrate the special qualities that made each person precious and valuable.

Years passed in heaven—though time had a different meaning there than it had on earth—and Master Pfriem became known throughout the heavenly realm as one of the most encouraging and supportive souls in residence. New arrivals sought him out because they knew he would help them see their own worth and value, rather than making them feel inadequate or criticized.

The moral of Master Pfriem’s story is a powerful reminder about the difference between healthy standards and destructive criticism. While it is important to strive for excellence in our own work and to maintain appropriate standards in our personal lives, we must be careful not to use our pursuit of perfection as an excuse to constantly judge and criticize others.

True wisdom lies in understanding that there are many different ways to approach any task or problem, and that what works for one person may not work for another. Instead of assuming that our way is always the best way, we should try to understand and appreciate the different perspectives and approaches that others bring to their work and their lives.

The story also teaches us about the importance of encouragement over criticism. When we focus on finding and pointing out the positive aspects of others’ efforts, we help them grow and improve much more effectively than when we constantly highlight their flaws and shortcomings.

Master Pfriem’s transformation reminds us that it is never too late to change our perspective and develop a more generous and appreciative way of viewing the world around us. Even deeply ingrained habits of criticism and judgment can be overcome when we make a conscious effort to look for the good in others and to celebrate the diverse ways that people contribute to our shared human experience.