A Father, A Sharpener

On Sunday evening, after finishing the NSW Cutter Expo, I flew home from Sydney.

It had been a very busy two days.

We met so many people at our stand — introducing products, answering questions, doing demonstrations, chatting and selling.

To be honest, I can't remember everyone's name. With some visitors, we didn't even exchange names or business cards.

It was after 11 pm when I finally arrived home. The kids were already asleep.

When I walked into the living room, I saw a few lovely little gifts sitting on the table.

I knew they were Father's Day gifts my son, Johny, had bought for me at his school's Father's Day Market.

Before I left for Sydney two days earlier, Johny had told me that his school would have a Father's Day Market on Friday.

Looking at those gifts on the table, I thought again about one customer I met at the NSW Cutter Expo.

Actually, I had been thinking about him since the show.

He looked to be in his sixties.

On Sunday morning, he came to our stand and spent some time looking at one of our diamond knife sharpeners — a diamond sharpening stone on one side, with a full leather strop on the back for final stropping.

He looked at it carefully and asked me about the materials, how it worked and the price.

But he didn't buy it at that time.

Later, when he was about to leave the expo, he came back to my stand.

He said:

"I looked at this sharpener earlier, and I've decided to buy one. I've walked around the whole expo, and this is the most creative and best-quality tool I've seen here."

Of course, I was very happy to hear that.

We developed this product, so when a customer comes back after walking around the whole show and says something like this, it means a lot to me.

I thanked him and carefully packed the sharpener for him.

Then we chatted for a little longer.

But what he said next, I still remember very clearly.

With a big smile, he told me:

"I've finally found the gift I was looking for."

The sharpener wasn't for himself.

He was going to keep it and give it to his son as a Christmas present.

You could see how happy he was.

It was just a father who had finally found something he really liked, and he believed his son would like it too.

I laughed and said:

"Wow, it's for your son? But Father's Day is next week. He should be getting a present ready for you!"

He laughed too.

He told me that yes, his son had something planned.

On Father's Day, his son was going to cook for him, and the family would have a meal together.

That was really all we talked about.

Nothing special happened.

He took the sharpener I had packed for him, said goodbye with a big smile, and left the expo.

But somehow, I kept remembering his smile.

Then, late on Sunday night, I arrived back home in Brisbane.

I saw the Father's Day gifts Johny had bought for me sitting quietly on the table.

At that moment, I thought about that father again.

At the expo, I thought I had simply sold him a sharpener.

When I got home, I felt it was maybe a little more than that.

A father had walked around the expo looking for something he wanted to give to his son.

Finally, he found it at my stand.

Maybe when he looked at that sharpener, he was simply thinking:

"My son will like this."

Christmas is still a few months away, but he had already started preparing a gift for his son.

At the same time, back home in Brisbane, my son Johny had been walking around his school's Father's Day Market, looking at different things.

Maybe Johny was thinking the same thing:

"My dad will like this."

A father choosing a gift for his son.

A son choosing a gift for his father.

One for Christmas.

One for Father's Day.

Somehow, that small sharpener made me connect these two things together.

Of course, we go to trade shows to show our products, meet customers and do business.

During those two days, I met many people, sold many products and had many good conversations.

But after coming home from Sydney, I realised the person I remembered most clearly wasn't the customer who placed the biggest order.

It was a father whose name I don't even remember.

And the sharpener he bought for his son.

I hope his son will like it when he opens his Christmas present.

And I hope this Father's Day, that father enjoys the meal his son is going to cook for him.