"The hardest thing to give away," I said slowly, "is meaning. Because you can't give it. You have to earn it. And you can't earn anything in a world where nothing costs anything."
He pressed it into my palm. It was warm. It was ordinary. And it was the most precious thing I had ever held. world free4u
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, rough stone. A river rock, smooth from centuries of friction. "I found this in the Ganges when I was a boy," he said. "Before the accords. I traded a mango for it. A mango I had picked from a tree that wasn't mine, from a farmer who had seven children. That stone cost me something. So I have kept it for forty years." "The hardest thing to give away," I said slowly, "is meaning