There once was a filing cabinet so full, it barely had room to think. It kept important case files as well as business cards from every service under the sun. It kept rubber-bands and paper clips and stray hair ties and a pen without ink. It kept everything.
“What is that stale piece of clay hanging out of your drawers?” A pad of paper pointed and laughed.
Embarrassed, the filing cabinet looked down. “It’s a piece of chewing gum.”
“What’s a filing cabinet want with a piece of gum?” The paper taunted.
There, at the edge of all papers important, sat the piece of chewing gum, curled up and stuck in the same place it had been for months. Even if it wanted to go somewhere, it couldn’t. Though the gum had the imprints of something deeper than just sugar, it had been in too many sticky situations to feel comfortable. Just like the paper clips, the rubber-bands, and the papers, it had nestled its way into the heart of the filing cabinet.
“Everything has its place,” said the filing cabinet. “Nothing is lost that is saved.”